Record of Wrongs

Sharon Kay

This is a work of fiction. Any actual places are used in a fictional context. Other names of places and people are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual places or people is purely coincidental.

Record of Wrongs

Cover art by Kim Killion at The Killion Group, Inc

Editing by Janet Michelson

Interior design and formatting by

Cheryl Murphy at Ink Slinger Editorial Services

Copyright

Record of Wrongs © 2017 Sharon Kay

Books By Sharon Kay

The Solsti Prophecy series

Wicked Wind

Wicked Waves

Wicked Flames

On Wicked Ground

Companion to the Solsti Prophecy series

Kissed By A Demon Spy: A Novella

The Watcher’s Kiss series

Tainted Kiss

Assassin’s Kiss

Captive’s Kiss

Awakening Kiss

A Titan World Novella

Twisted Desire

Contents

Books By Sharon Kay

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Epilogue

Record of Wrongs Playlist

Coming Soon

About Sharon

Acknowledgements

First, a huge, sincere thank you to my readers! Without you, these stories would remain untold. Your support, comments, and messages motivate me and mean more to me than I can possibly express.

Thank you to my amazing husband, for your patience and support of my writing. And my son—I love your bright and curious mind, and your endless questions. Love you both!

Thank you to my parents and siblings, my in-laws, and my extended family for your love and encouragement of my creativity.

Thank you to my beta readers: Claudia, Cristin, Jamie A., Jamie S., and to my proofreaders Toshia and Tarina. Your opinions, advice, and nit-pickiness are invaluable, often hilarious, and always spot-on!

And a big hug and kiss to the many bloggers I have had the joy to work with. The support you give to indie authors is amazing. Many of you have jobs and families and still make time to read and review dozens (if not hundreds) of books each year, providing exposure for us through insightful and witty reviews, blog tours, cover reveals, and contests.

Thank you!

Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.

~Oscar Wilde

Prologue

Chunk. The sound of the heavy-duty metal lock disengaging echoed like a mortar shell off the concrete walls. Steel slid open, revealing a stern-faced guard who managed to crack a hint of a smile. “It’s a good day, Zaffino.”

Cruz walked through the open door and into the bleak hall. Every nerve sparked like the wires of the cars he used to boost thirteen years ago. This day was certainly a good one.

He was free.

Every step he took was different. Every smack of his standard-issue sneakers on the cement floor felt lighter. His orange uniform brushed against his skin for the last time as the guard escorted him past the endless rows of cells.

Some of the men inside shouted words of encouragement and congratulations as he passed. Over the years, they had rotated in an endless cycle of the downtrodden and hardened, the lost and angry. Many were repeat offenders. Many would be there for decades to come. Others glared as he strode down that corridor and yelled insults, cursing him and vowing to see him back here.

One cell’s resident prowled near the bars of his cell, a huge, smoldering presence. The daggers in his eyes followed Cruz with palpable menace. James Fellows, aka Big J, was a high-ranking member of a powerful Chicago gang known as Los Reyes. He maintained control and influence, even from inside this hell hole. A gravelly snarl tore from his throat as Cruz passed. “I’m gonna find out what you did. This ain’t over, pendejo.”

Visible on his neck was a crown done in black ink, a symbol of his gang. Scarred, tattooed fingers wrapped around the bars as he spat, narrowly missing Cruz. Big J had made it clear they were enemies from the first day he’d arrived. His subordinates had once smuggled in a knife. Rumor was, he intended to kill Cruz—but it had been discovered before he got that far.

Cruz wasn’t sure what event Big J was referring to today, but he blocked it out and focused on the steel door at the end of the hall. He hadn’t been through that door in years.

Ten years.

Somewhere just on the other side, his mother and sister waited. In ten years, he’d only been able to talk to them on a phone and press a palm to cold glass.

They reached the door. Through a small triple glass window, another guard nodded. Another lock clicked. Cruz’s guard opened the steel door. “Good luck out there, man.”

“Thanks.” Cruz walked into the next room, which was just a space with more locked doors. More security. He walked through one more similar room and then into a room that looked like an interrogation room. A steel table and one chair were the only furniture. His attorney, Martin O’Neill, stood with a guard.

Martin crossed the small room to clasp Cruz’s hand. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Cruz shook his hand. After a string of crappy lawyers, finally, his sister had helped him get in contact with this man. He’d worked Cruz’s case like a pit bull.

“Let’s get you the hell out of here.” Martin nodded at the guards. “Gentlemen, thank you.”

One guard opened the door and Cruz found himself in a hallway with white floors and offices. Some were open, some had flimsy wooden doors. Wood, not steel. Martin led him to one closed door, knocked twice, and pushed it open.

“Christian!” His mom rushed to embrace him, tears in her eyes.

His sister Jenna flung her arms around both of them. “Oh my god, Cruz. Finally. Finally!”

He breathed in their warmth, their emotion, their familiar perfume smells that hadn’t changed. This decade hadn’t been easy for them, either. He closed his eyes for a second and just stood, their love as palpable as their arms holding him tightly. His mom’s fuzzy scarf tickled his chin.

“We brought you new clothes,” Jenna said. “God knows what they would give you to walk out of here.” She handed him a duffel bag.

“Thanks.” He took it, finding it heavier than he expected. “How much did you pack in here?”

“I wasn’t exactly sure of your sizes now,” she shrugged.

“Bathroom’s over there.” Martin gestured to a door at the back of the room.

Cruz headed for it and changed as quickly as he could. Jenna guessed well, choosing jeans that fit perfectly and a navy button down shirt. She’d packed deodorant and new shoes as well. He glanced at himself in the small mirror.

Not orange. He looked like a regular person. Not someone who’d lost ten years of his life. Not an inmate. He walked back into the room.

“Much better,” Jenna declared.

“We got you a new coat. It’s cold out there.” His mom held up a dark gray parka-type thing.

“Thanks, Mom.” He eased into it and took in the three people who’d never stopped believing in him. “We ready?”

“We’re good to go,” Martin said. “But there’s a horde of press outside. You’ve been in the headlines all week. Everyone wants to see you and get a sound bite. I’ll guide you to my car. We stick together. You don’t have to answer any questions. In fact, I recommend you don’t. Though if you want to make a statement, let’s get that figured out now.”

Cruz shook his head. “Nope.”

“Someone’s probably going to ask you a stupid question, like ‘how does it feel to be cleared of wrongdoing after all this time?’” Jenna frowned. “How do they think it feels?”

“I’m not interested in answering,” Cruz said. “I don’t owe them anything. Next week they’ll be on to fresh meat.”

“Okay then,” Martin said. “I’ll go first. You stay right behind me.”

They made their way to the front doors, bypassing the security ropes that visitors had to walk through upon entrance. From a window high above, bright sun blazed into the entryway. Martin squared his broad shoulders and shoved open the heavy front door.

For one second, Cruz just breathed. The sharp bite of winter air felt more vibrant than it ever had. He drew it deeply into his lungs, relishing his first breath outside these walls in a decade.

They walked down three cement steps and onto a concrete walk that stretched fifty feet toward a parking lot. Only a twelve-foot-high chain-link fence topped with barbed wire stood between him and complete freedom. That, and a massive crowd gathered on the other side of the fence.

“There he is!” A voice shouted from a pack.

Questions and calls volleyed toward them. Cameras, both photo and video, were raised to better vantage points as they neared.

“Mr. Zaffino! Will you give a statement?”

“Can you tell us how you feel about the reversal of your conviction?”

“Christian! What are you going to do now that you’re free?”

A guard opened a gate in the fence to let them pass. The crowd pushed in. Cruz held his mom under one arm and Jenna under the other, keeping them close as they followed Martin. God, these reporters were vultures.

“Do you have any words for the witness who recanted?”

“Christian, can we get a photo?”

“Almost there,” Jenna muttered. “The back windows are tinted. You and Mom get in there. I’ll ride in front. If anyone tries to take pictures they’ll only get me.”

Cruz could care less if anyone took his picture—hell, cameras were snapping away right and left. A half dozen vans emblazoned with local television channel logos were parked outside, and the chop-chop of a helicopter overhead added to the insanity. But he didn’t want to put his mother through any more. If Jenna coordinating their seating made it easier, that was fine.

They reached a black SUV. Martin unlocked the doors with a beep of his keys and Cruz and his mom hurried in. News hounds pressed against the car, still shouting. Martin got Jenna in front next, and fought through the throng to get into the driver’s seat. He got in, muttering curses, but started the car and laid on the horn. Slowly, they inched forward.

Reluctantly, the crowd parted. Martin steered the car away from the prison and onto a rural highway. Cruz had no desire for a final look back. He was done.

Liberated. Exonerated. Ready to take back his life.

Chapter 1

Three months later…

Rosie Marlow finished filling a third pitcher of draft beer from the tap and set it on a tray with the first two, just in time to see Brenda hustling over from the center of the packed dining area.

“Tables eight, nine, and ten are happy. And I have six more orders for George.” She reached back to adjust her platinum blond ponytail. “Of all the Friday nights for Tina to call in sick.”

“I can take this.” Rosie nodded at the tray of pitchers. “Which table?”

“One. Thanks so much. If this keeps up, I’ll—” Cheers erupted around the room as dozens of people watched the Cubs’ star slugger hit a home run.

Rosie grinned. She didn’t have a preference for baseball teams but she loved happy customers. And the Cubs winning made people happy. She hefted the tray onto her shoulder and rounded the edge of the bar.

The table was close—actually it was two tables pushed together to accommodate a large group who’d been hanging out since they got out of work. Rosie didn’t know them, like she knew everyone else in Sundown, but they greeted her with smiles as she set the pitchers down. Then again, who wouldn’t smile when you brought them drinks?

Most folks would. But as if to illustrate her point, not the three men who sat at one end of her bar like over-privileged princes. She guessed they were college age. They’d been ordering top shelf alcohol, scanning the room to check out every female under forty—including her—and throwing off self-righteous attitude all night.

But whatever. People like them only showed up once in a while. The majority of the patrons at the Sundown Bar and Grille were a pleasure to be around.

“Thanks, girl.” Brenda zipped past her on her way back out, carrying a full platter of food.

“No worries.” Rosie picked up some empty red plastic serving baskets, ready to toss the wrappers in the trash behind the bar.

“Two more beers when you get a chance, Ro,” said one middle-aged man as she passed.

“Sure thing, Gene.” He and his brother were two of the biggest baseball fans she’d ever met. They watched every game at the Grille, betting against each other every time.

On cue, the college guys ordered another round of tequila shots as soon as she was back at her post. “You got it.” Rosie pasted on her friendly neutral smile. Hey, the more they drank, the better tips she got. Usually.

Moving to the tap, she filled one beer glass, then another, glancing up as Brenda approached with a fistful of new orders. “It’s like folks haven’t eaten all week,” she muttered, as her phone trilled from her pocket. The waitresses weren’t supposed to use their personal phones unless they were on break, but Owen didn’t put up a stink if they just did a quick screen check. “Crap, it’s my babysitter. She never calls.” Worried eyes met Rosie’s own. “I gotta take this.”

“Sure, go. I’ll take these back.” Rosie grabbed the white paper tickets and shoved them in her apron pocket. She brought the drafts to Gene and his brother, then headed to the kitchen to deliver the orders to George.

“Nice to see you step away and come back here, Ro.” George took the papers and held them at arms’ length. “Thank the Lord for y’all’s good handwritin’. Can’t read Owen’s to save my life.”

“We’re so busy tonight.” Rosie massaged the back of her neck. “You good?”

“Always.” George cracked an egg into a pan, starting part one of his famous breading recipes. “I can cook for an army. Oh wait—I already did.” He grinned broadly at the joke he cracked just about every night.

“All leading to this place.” Rosie swept her arm in a circle. “Holler for me or Brenda when you’re ready. I’m going back up front.”

She turned to leave, only to see Brenda appear in the doorway, expression worried. “What is it?”

“My babysitter’s puking. My sister’s out of town. Mom’s working.” Brenda bit her lip. “I gotta go. But we’re slammed here.” She rubbed her temple. “Shit. This is so bad.”

“You go take care of your babies. It’s only an hour until closing time. I can handle it.”

“Girl, no! It’s nuts tonight.” Brenda pulled out her phone. “I’ll call Livvie and beg her to work the rest of my shift.”

“Let me know. I’ll be in front.” Rosie patted her friend on the shoulder and hustled back to the bar.

She was greeted with the sarcastic jeers of the college guys. “Hey. Did you forget our drinks? We’re waiting.”

Rosie smiled and grabbed three shot glasses. They were being assholes but yeah, they’d had to wait. She poured three shots in rapid succession and set them down on the smooth, weathered wood of the bar. “So sorry about that,” she murmured.

“Bout fuckin’ time,” one muttered as he grabbed his glass.

Let it go. Rosie squared her shoulders. “Again, I’m sorry about the wait.” Chances were they wouldn’t be back, and that was fine with her.

She crossed to the other end of the bar in time to see Brenda signaling her. “I have to go. Liv’s boyfriend said they got wasted and she’s almost passed out. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Go. You don’t want to leave your kiddos with a sick sitter. I got this.” It would add crazy to an already crazy night, but what else was she supposed to do? “I’ll be fine.”

“I owe you, girl. Thank you.” Brenda turned and hurried out the back door.

Rosie spared a quick glance around the bar. Everyone had a drink, no one was empty. Time for a thirty second check on George. She found him whistling as he coated chicken strips with his famous breading, happy as punch and not fazed by the unrelenting orders. “It’s just me and you, George,” Rosie called.

“You got it. I’ll yell extra loud.” He winked and transferred the wings to the fryer.

Rosie headed back to the bar, scanning the room beyond. An hour to go and the dining room was still three quarters full. Most eyes were on the game, as the Cubs duked it out against the Cardinals. Some of the guys from the local road construction company were in, laughing and joking as they drained a pitcher. She knew most of them. Some had lived in Sundown as long as she had and had gone to school with her or her older brother.

She’d give it ten more minutes before she checked on the tables or peeked to see if George’s wings finished up. She started to wipe down a section of bar—

Whoa.

Her mind and body stopped. Froze. Her mouth may have dropped open. Because walking toward the bar, cutting a path through the busy country cacophony, was a dark force of nature.

Tall, with a black T-shirt and dark jeans, a man moved toward her from the middle of the crowd. As effortlessly as a wolf on the hunt, he prowled toward her. Purposefully. Powerfully. He had short dark hair that looked like it didn’t want to stay put, and a picture-perfect square jaw. She couldn’t tell what color his eyes were but right now, that wasn’t what riveted her.

Instead, she was drawn to the riot of ink decorating both his arms, from wrist to the thick biceps that were only partially hidden by his short sleeves. As he drew closer, she could make out the well-defined muscles of his chest and shoulders, straining against his shirt. If don’t mess with me was an adjective, that would be this guy, in one thought.

He reached the bar and set his hands on the rounded edge, leveling her with the hint of smile that she couldn’t tell was real or not. Careful, her instincts screamed in a silent stereotype. But screw her instincts. They’d been wrong too many times to count. And he was staring right at her.

“Can I—” Her voice came out half cough, half squeak. What the hell? She cleared her throat. “Can I help you?” Which table had he come from? Why hadn’t she seen him come in? He was arrestingly handsome, with high cheekbones and chest muscles that pushed against the cotton of his tee.

He raised one brow. “Waiting on a drink. It’s been a while and I don’t see the waitress.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. What’ll you have?” Crap. How had Brenda not told her this guy was waiting for a drink? Then again, she’d been so distracted, how could Rosie blame her…

“A shot of Jack.” He slid onto a stool.

“I can bring it to your table,” she said, reaching for a glass. “I’m sorry about the delay. We’re a bit short-staffed tonight.”

“Nah. Think I’ll stay here.” He regarded her with eyes that were light in color but intense beyond anything she’d seen before.

Like no one was going to get him back to his table until he was good and ready. His tone, like his eyes, stayed laid-back yet unwavering.

“Okay. Coming right up.” She smiled, forcing her eyes to stay on his face and not on at his tattoos. It looked like he had one large design on each arm, then more higher up…and geez, so much for trying not to stare.

The rest of the place faded to the back of her mind as she turned and poured his drink. Who was he? No one in Sundown looked like him. Sure, some of the guys had ink, but not like this.

Rosie set the glass filled with amber liquid down in front of him. She wiped down the already immaculate spot next to him. “Is this your first time at the Sundown Bar and Grille?”

He leaned forward, elbows on the bar, and the muscles in those forearms flexed, drawing her eyes to script in a foreign language.

“Yep.” He surveyed the rest of the bar patrons, not in a casual way. More in a calculating way, though calculating what, she wasn’t sure. “Nice little place.”

“You visiting?” she murmured, tilting her head and trying to sound like she was making the most casual conversation in the world. Not prying into the life of the tall dark stranger. Nope, not her.

“No.” His lips twitched in the start of a smile and wow, he had nice lips, the lower one fuller than the top. “Looks like I’m staying.”

“Really?” She couldn’t hide her surprise. No one moved to Sundown—they usually moved away. “Wow, that’s great! Welcome to the home of the most winning state title high school football team in the 1970s.”

She instantly winced. That sounded so lame. But it was plastered on the two “Welcome to Sundown” signs on the rural road on the east and west sides of town. Their dubious claim to fame.

He chuckled. “That was a long time ago.”

“Yeah.” She wanted to smack her forehead. “Anyway, nice to meet you. I’m Rosie.”

“Hi, Rosie.” The hint of a smile bloomed into a grin, making her freeze all over again. God. It melted away some of his intensity and brought on a tummy flip. He extended a hand. “I’m Cruz.”

That was a new name. “Hi, Cruz.” She took his hand, which engulfed hers in warm rough skin and a grip that conveyed controlled strength. The tension in his fingers told her he could squeeze someone’s hand much, much harder. “Where are you from?”

“Chicago.”

“Ah, the big city.” Not only did people not move to Sundown, they especially didn’t move here from urban areas. If anything, they moved from other neighboring towns. “Must be quite a change.”

“You can say that again.” He chuckled. “Think it’ll take some getting used to, but it’ll be good.”

“Ro, when ya got a minute.” Gene walked up next to Cruz and laid a hand on the bar. “One more refill. No rush.”

“Oh gosh. Sorry Gene. I’ll get that now.”

“Take yer time.” Gene patted the bar twice and ambled back to his seat next to his brother, Howard.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” Cruz said. “May as well watch the Cubbies try and kick some ass.”

“You best be careful—we’re close enough to Saint Louis to have our fair share of Cardinals fans.” She smiled as she grabbed glasses for Gene and Howard. “I’ll be back.”

Chapter 2

Cruz settled on the bar stool that was way more comfortable than a stool should be and pretended to watch the baseball game. How in the hell had he been in this room for ninety minutes and not noticed Rosie? Sure he’d seen flashes of blond hair and knew, logically, there was a person working the bar—but he’d been chilling with the guys from work and they had a different waitress.

Who was nowhere to be found, and thank god, because he may not have gotten off his ass and met this girl.

Rosie.

In Sundown, Illinois, population a whopping 782. There was something so damn quaint about it that it felt like an out of body experience.

He’d been there a week and it was like stepping into a different world. So far from Chicago’s gritty streets, from his neighborhood with playgrounds that weren’t safe for kids and houses that were separated by gangways two feet wide.

Here, where he’d never seen so much horizon filled only with fields and clouds. The only things punching upward from the very green earth were trees. And here, where a stranger in an oncoming car on a two lane road would wave as he passed.

Wave? Cruz shook his head. Still couldn’t get over it. No one back home did that. It would be as foreign as a beat cop sprouting fairy wings.

Rosie though, hustled behind the bar like she owned it. He paused. Maybe she did. His days of assuming anything about anybody were long over.

Honey blond hair cascaded down her back in a mix of waves and straight. She was shorter than he but not tiny, and when she’d looked him in the eye he’d given in to the urge to stare. Just for a second. Because her eyes were as blue as the damn sky down here in the country, and didn’t that sound like the sappiest shit he’d ever thought.

Black pants hugged slender legs, and her black T-shirt dipped to a V in front. Enough to glimpse the upper curve of breasts that weren’t too big or too small, but that bounced as she moved effortlessly between the different segments of the bar. It was damn hard not to stare at her, especially after she’d talked with that sweet soft drawl and had tried hard not to gawk at his arms.

He wasn’t in Sundown for her, or any woman. He should get up, go back to his crew, and leave when they were ready.

A good man would. But Cruz was far from good.

“Here you go, guys,” Rosie said as she set two draft beers down by the customer who’d been waiting. She glanced up at the television. “Gene, look—you‘re bringing your Cards some luck tonight!”

“Ain’t gonna last,” the other man said. “I ain’t losing to this guy again.”

“Shit, you just keep praying, brother,” the man called Gene said good-naturedly.

“Rosie, order up.” A portly man with frizzy gray hair poked his head out from a hallway behind the bar.

“Oh thanks!” She ducked into the back, then emerged carrying a tray laden with the wings Cruz had seen being served all night long. She zipped out to the tables, passing out food and smiling like it was no big deal that she was probably doing three people’s jobs.

Returning with her tray empty, she smiled at Cruz as she passed. “You good?”

“Yeah.” He hadn’t touched his drink. The desire for the burn of whiskey had faded, replaced by intrigue with the pretty bartender with the perfect country name from the perfect small rural town. And he shouldn’t be intrigued. He didn’t know anything about her. She may have a boyfriend—though he hadn’t spotted any rings on her fingers. She may be crazy—though she seemed perfectly calm in this busy place. “Are you? You’re shorthanded.”

“Oh, I’m fine. We’re in the final hour anyw—”

“Hey!” a harsh male shout carried form the end of the bar opposite Gene and his baseball game. “Can we get some service over here?”

A group of three guys who seemed barely old enough to drink sat scowling, empty shot glasses in front of them. Cruz had seen them arrive a while ago, an air of entitlement rolling in with them. They wore polo shirts and boat shoes and haircuts that said they cared too much about their appearance.

Rosie didn’t blink, just walked over toward them with a smile. “What can I get you?”

“Three drafts. As soon as you can move that ass.” He glared, while his friends smirked.

Cocksuckers. Cruz knew zip about them but that last statement stirred his anger. Keeping his face neutral, a skill he’d had to perfect over the last ten years, he studied each one. They weren’t muscular. All had their phones out. All wore expressions that said they thought they were smarter than everyone else in the bar.

“You got it. “ Rosie cleared their empty glasses as if they hadn’t been rude. She had to step close to Cruz to fill their beer glasses from the tap. Her face was calm, not riled. Did it not bother her to get talked to like that? Was she used to it? Did this happen all the time?

Cruz gritted his teeth, not liking any of the above. “They come here often?” he asked quietly.

“No, never seen ’em before,” she murmured, filling the first glass. “I’m guessing they’re college kids from the next town over. Sometimes they want a change of pace as far as bars, and the wings here have quite a reputation.”

“They’re assholes.”

“Yeah. We get that type in here.” She shrugged. “They’re still customers.”

“And you’re a woman, not a fucking servant.”

She met his gaze with steady eyes that said she’d seen all kinds of people sitting on the other side of her bar. “They come, they go. Never the same group twice. As long as they pay and don’t break anything, I can handle it.”

He drummed his fingers on the bar, not liking it. Then again…what the hell. He’d just met her, and she was obviously used to it. ”All right. You’re not bothered, okay. I won’t be. I’m the new guy. Looks like you got it under control.”

“I do.” She winked. “Thanks for sayin’ that though.” She filled the last glass and delivered them to the trio.

Only one had the courtesy to thank her.

Something clicked in Cruz’s mind. An instinct, or a recognition of something ugly. He didn’t dwell on the dynamics of it. But in that instant he resolved to not leave the Sundown Bar and Grille until these three dickheads did. Catching Rosie’s eye, he gave her a chin lift. “Be right back.”

“Sure thing.” She rounded the bar to head to the tables.

Cruz ambled back to his buddies. Guys he’d known a week, but seemed like good people. They worked on the road construction crew where the owner hadn’t had a problem hiring Cruz. “Don’t care where you been, boy,” Palmer, his boss, had grunted. “You got a strong back. You keep your head down, stay outta trouble, and put in your hours. You manage that? You got a job here.”

“Cruz.” Julio drew out the “u”, which was funny, because Cruz’s friends from school had done that. “We thought we lost you.”

“This place isn’t big enough to get lost in, man.” Cruz took cash from his wallet and tossed it down. “I’m gonna wrap things up at the bar.”

“Talking to Rosie, eh?” Matt’s eyes drifted from their beers to Rosie.

“Yeah.”

“Good luck.” His friend gave a half snort.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Man, I could never get her to go out with me in high school.”

“Maybe she didn’t want to date your ugly mug,” Julio snickered.

“Says the man with no dates coming up.” Matt wadded a napkin and chucked it at Julio.

“I’d rather have my freedom.” Julio laughed and caught the thing before it hit the ground. “But yeah, talk to her. Just don’t get mad if she don’t give you her number.”

Cruz scowled. “Thanks for the votes of confidence. See you guys Monday.”

They waved and turned back to one of the four television screens around the room. Cruz walked back to the bar, only to have Rosie zip in front of him carrying six empty red plastic baskets, the evidence that they once held wings clear from the barbeque sauce on the paper liners. She strode with quick confident steps, long legs, perfect ass…

Cruz tore his eyes from Rosie’s sexy rear view. All the vibes he got from her were good. Positive. Genuine. He shook his head, reminding himself he’d just met her, for Christ sake.

His people-judging instincts had been honed over the years. Had to be—a matter of survival when everyone around him wanted something and would’ve been happy to see him suffer.

Rosie disappeared into the back and Cruz scanned the bar. Huey, Dewey, and Louie had left. Thank fuck. Best take their preppy, privileged asses back to whatever stinking fraternity house their parents paid for them to live at.

He settled on his stool as patrons pulled out cash and dropped it on their tables. Group by group, the Grille cleared out. Even Gene and his brother left, still arguing over who owed who more money from baseball bets.

“Not thirsty after all?” Rosie paused as she swept by, straightening up, blue eyes playfully questioning.

He took a greedy second to soak up those baby blues. Long dark lashes. Perfect skin. “Changed my mind.”

She shrugged and reached for the glass. “Nothing wrong with that. Care for a water or soda?”

“No. I’m good.” Shit. He hated that phrase. It was what people said. But it was a lie coming from his mouth.

“We close in ten minutes.” She leaned close and lowered her voice. “The owner’s pretty strict about that.”

Her perfume wafted across the bar, invading his nose with temptation. He could reach for her, pull her close enough to taste those plump red lips… and shit, he needed to cool the fuck down. Last he heard, girls didn’t appreciate being grabbed and kissed by some dude they just met.

“Cruz?” she murmured.

Damn. Busted. “Yeah. Sorry. I’ll get out of your way. Nice meeting you, Rosie.”

“Same to you.” She tilted her head. “Come by again. Don’t be a stranger.”

“You got it.” He walked out into the warm night. Not quite hot yet, spring had finally succeeded in pushing winter aside and the air was perfect. Clouds obscured the millions of stars that were so plentiful here—another thing to get used to. In the city, he could occasionally make out the Big Dipper. Sometimes not even that.

He walked to his truck, a slightly used black Chevy that nonetheless was new to him, and one of only a few possessions he’d acquired in the last decade. He cranked the 420 horsepower engine to life and paused, not ready to drive away. His sixth sense had him edgy with the need to make sure this night moved smoothly into dawn. A lingering unease pricked at the border of his mind. Maybe it was nothing. But he’d stay. Not being stalkerish. Just keeping an eye on things.

His truck was the only vehicle visible in the lot—but he guessed employee parking was in the back. Hang out there? Now that might be stalkerish. He’d give it a little while. All the folks inside had to clean up, count money, do whatever they did to close up a restaurant. Cruz pulled out his phone and settled back to wait.

Chapter 3

Rosie opened the industrial dishwasher and started putting clean beer and shot glasses away, mortified at herself. Had she really, practically begged Cruz to come back? After stealing constant glimpses of him like a swoony teenager? Nice going. He probably thought she was a naïve country hick—if he thought about her at all.

She wiped a forearm across her brow, hot from the dishwasher steam. Oh well. At least he’d been polite. Those three other guys had barely left a tip, on top of being rude.

Bar straightened, she peeked into the kitchen. George had it spotless, save for one burner he stood in front of, dancing his personal version of the twist. Oldies music played on the CD player he insisted on having in the room, while he stirred a large silver pot. “George, go on home already.”

“No, you go on, Ro. I’m working on a new version of the wing sauce. No—none of that.” He held up a hand at her dropped jaw. “I’m not changing the tried and true recipe. Just working on a seasonal version.”

“Whew. You scared me for a minute. Don’t you ever change that one!”

George waved and dipped a spoon to taste his concoction. Rosie moved down the back hall and knocked on Owen’s door. Normally, he’d help out on a short-staffed night like this, but the owners were auditing all their properties and he had to fill out dozens of reports. Even now, he looked miserable, slouched over three open notebooks.

“Hey, Owen,” she said as she pushed the door farther.

“Hey, Rosie.” He rubbed his eyes. “Any time you wanna go back to school and finish that accounting degree so you can take over this crap, I’d be more ‘en ready.” He frowned. “Then again, I’d lose my best bartender. Damn.”

She forced a smile, knowing he meant well. Everyone in Sundown knew she’d started college. Everyone knew when and why she’d stopped. Probably thought she was stuck in a rut. Or had given up.

Had she?

She shook off the pointless thoughts. “You gonna finish on their deadline?”

“Yeah. I got another day. I’m sorry I couldn’t help tonight. You go on home now.”

“See you tomorrow night.” She started to back out into the hallway. “Oh, George is still here. Working on a new recipe.”

“Got it. Thanks, Rosie.”

She waved then ducked into the employee break room and grabbed her purse from a file cabinet drawer. Owen had all kinds of storage for the staff here: a closet, plastic bins, mats for snowy boots—anywhere the employees wanted to stash their stuff during their shift.

No coats and boots needed tonight. She rolled her shoulders and pushed out into the dark parking lot.

Three cars were illuminated by two lights at either end of the small lot. Owen’s, George’s, and hers. She felt around in her purse as she walked, searching for her keys. She could hear them jangling—but where were they—

Tires screeched from the front of the building, splitting the quiet country night. A second later, headlights blazed across the lot. Rap music blared from the open windows of a boxy SUV—a Hummer? No one in Sundown owned one of those…

The car lurched to a halt and the doors opened. Rosie’s stomach dropped to her feet. The three guys who had given her a hard time all night got out.

“Hey, look who just got off,” one drawled.

“We missed you,” said another, who shut off the engine as he exited.

“The restaurant is closed.” Rosie’s eyes darted nervously between the three.

“We know that, baby,” the third one smirked. “Think we came back here for the shit food? Or do you think we’re as dumb as the rest of this hick town?”

Rosie still had a hand in her bag, searching for her keys. Finally her fingertips found cool metal. “I didn’t think about you at all.”

The first guy whistled. “Damn, you’re feisty.”

The second guy stepped close to her left side. Too close. “That’s too bad. We’re gonna make sure you think about us.”

Jerk number three neared her right side and reached for her hair, lifting a lock and slowly drawing it through his fingers. “What’d they call you? Ruby? Something like that?”

Oh god. A shudder of revulsion and terror wracked her shoulders. “It’s not important. I’m leaving. And if you stay here, the owner will call the cops.”

“I don’t see any owner out here.” The first one circled her and the others, leering as his eyes raked her body. “Just a party for four.”

Panic exploded and she couldn’t stand still another second. She turned and bolted toward her car.

“Not so fast.” The second one grabbed her arm and jerked her roughly against him. “Let’s go for a ride. Our car’s big. And probably nicer than some of the shacks you call houses around here.”

“No!” She struggled to get free as her brain hazed with panic. Should she try to use her keys? Scream? Would Owen hear her? George wouldn’t, with his music on.

The one who’d been circling around got in her face, thrust his hands through her hair. “Yeah, you are—”

The roar of an engine thundered through the night. From the opposite side of the building a pickup truck barreled into the parking lot. The driver killed the headlights and jumped out.

Cruz.

The three guys cursed. The one holding her didn’t let go.

Rosie’s heart stuttered. She could barely breathe from paralyzing fear. Now, seeing Cruz stride through the darkness with fury on his face, stole any remnants of air left in her lungs.

“Get away from her.” Cruz voice was harsh, commanding. One of the street lights lit half of his body, sharpening the angles of his face and highlighting his tattoos.

“Walk away, asshole,” the second guy said.

“Go home. Freak.” The third man eyed Cruz’s biceps. “The fuck is all that? Did your boyfriend draw all the pretty pictures on you?”

“I said step away from her.” Cruz’s boots kicked up a cloud of dirt. He was two feet away. Looming as intense as a summer storm. Rosie couldn’t take her eyes off him.

“Last chance to get out, unless you wanna get your fairy ass kicked,” one of them jeered.

“Hands off her or I’ll rip them off your goddamn arms,” Cruz growled at the one still touching her.

The second guy ran at Cruz, swinging a fist. Cruz grabbed his outstretched arm and yanked down, twisting. The man yelped but his voice changed to a garbled sound as Cruz punched him hard in the stomach. He stumbled, then vomited all the alcohol he’d just consumed.

“You deaf?” Cruz advanced toward the man holding on to Rosie. “Let. Go.”

The man did, and Rosie tried to run for the building. But the last guy grabbed her around the waist. She wriggled but he only held her closer. “You want it rough, baby, you’ll get it.”

Cruz and the man who’d been holding her collided in a flurry of blows. In a flash, Cruz had him in a chokehold. The guy gasped and flailed. Cruz didn’t let go. Strained gasps wrenched from the guy’s mouth. His eyelids fluttered.

“Fuck man, you re gonna kill him!” the jerk holding Rosie yelled.

“Not fucking worth it.” Cruz released the man, who dropped to the ground, wheezing. He charged the guy and Rosie.

The asshole had the nerve to hold her in front of him. “Don’t! Back off, man. Okay. We’ll go. Fuck!” He released Rosie and ran to the car. His friend on the ground managed to crawl to their fancy SUV, while the one who had puked rolled on the ground moaning, still clutching his stomach.

“Get up Doug! Get in the fucking car or we’re leaving you here!” the guy yelled.

The one named Doug staggered to his feet and half ran, half crouched his way to the vehicle. He got in and they drove off with a squeal of tires.

Rosie wrapped her arms around herself, staring at Cruz. “Th-thank you.” Her vision went swirly for a split second. “Oh my god. I-I need to sit down.” She plopped on the ground, a mess of wobbly limbs.

“You okay?” Cruz crouched next to her, concern in his eyes. “Did they hurt you?”

She shook her head. “No.” Breaths sawed from her lungs in choppy bursts as her head spun. Chills spread up and down her arms despite the warm night. Her eyes dropped to the dirt. She hadn’t felt this defenseless in a long time.

“Those mother fucking assholes.” His voice was gravelly and out of the corner of her eye, she saw his fist clench.

She fought to regulate her breathing. “I-I thought they left. I thought you left.”

“I was still in front, in my truck.” He lowered himself to sit next to her. “Just checking my phone. I saw their car come back.”

“Oh my god,” she murmured. “I’m so glad. What if-what if you hadn’t?” She couldn’t stop the fear racing through her veins. Her limbs felt like limp noodles as her adrenaline shifted from flight to you’re okay just breathe.

“Fuck, Rosie. Isn’t there someone who can walk you out here? I saw a guy in the back—the cook?” he scowled.

“Yeah, George is inside. So is Owen, the owner. But we girls always walk out together. Always. But Brenda had to go home early, and someone else called in sick for the whole shift…so it was just me.” She drew a deep breath. “And nothing like this has ever happened before.”

He ran a hand over his hair and studied her. Not in a creepy way like the guys had done, but assessing. “You sure you’re okay? You’re shaking.”

“I am?” Belatedly she dropped her gaze to see her fingers trembling like her grandma’s used to. Like autumn leaves that couldn’t hang on for one second longer. “I’m okay. Really. Just scared. But okay.”

He nodded.

“I just want to sit here a minute. Will you stay with me?”

“Sure. You got someone you want to call?” His tone was casual. Anyone would ask that question. But she couldn’t help but wonder at the note of curiosity in his voice.

“No.” Her shoulders sagged. Crap. If she hadn’t made it home, no one would even know until the next day.

“Want to call the cops? Not sure what they could do, but you know, if it’ll make you feel better…”

She winced and shook her head. “They’ll hear about this. No doubt.”

He gave her a quizzical look. “What does that mean?”

“My brother’s a cop here in Redemption County.”

He froze for a second, then frowned. Turned his gaze skyward as if the stars had anything to do with what was happening here in the parking lot. “Your brother. Well, there you go.”

She studied his profile, not sure how to react. Not that she was sure of anything right now, except that he’d saved her from being assaulted and maybe killed. He’d taken down the first two guys like it was nothing, like he did it every day. He hadn’t broken a sweat. Did he even have any bruises?

She couldn’t tell in the dark. “You saved me from something awful. I can’t thank you enough. I can’t believe how lucky I am that you were still here.”

He picked up a pebble and tossed it across the lot. “Sometimes, things work out. I’m glad it did today.”

A hundred thoughts raced through her head. Where was he staying? Was he living with someone? Why did he pick Sundown, of all the places to move? Would he come back to the bar? How did he know exactly how to fight those guys?

But her mouth couldn’t form the words to go along. All she could manage was thank you, and she’d said that three times already. “I’m ready to go home.”

“You sure you’re not too rattled to drive?” he asked.

“No. I can drive. It’s not far.”

He stood and extended a hand to help her up. “Promise me you’ll always walk outside with someone. Every night.”

She nodded. “I promise.”

“And if you don’t have anyone, like tonight?” He pulled out his phone from his pocket. “Call me. I’ll come over.”

“I can’t ask you to walk me from the restaurant door to my car if you’re not even here!” She blinked up at him. Surely he couldn’t be on call like that for someone he just met?

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you. He turned the screen around. “Put my number in your phone.”

“Okay.” With fingers that were finally steady, she entered his digits. “I’d feel terrible calling you, though.”

“I’d feel terrible if this shit happened again and I didn’t stop it.” His tone once again held that commanding edge.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

“You’re welcome.” A hint of a smile tilted his lips. “I’ll wait ‘til you get your car started.”

“Okay. Night.” She turned and headed to her car, unlocking it as she neared. She slid in, started the little reliable engine, and turned on the lights.

Cruz shoved a hand into his pocket and ambled to his truck. His gait was like a panther—muscular and deliberate, with the ability to pounce in a heartbeat. He waved before getting in, which was sweet, because the headlights would prevent him from knowing if she was even looking in his direction.

But she was. Not looking, but staring unabashedly, glad for the shadowed secrecy of her car. Entranced with this dark knight who’d literally swooped in and saved the day. How had she been lucky enough to have him walk into her bar? She pressed a hand over her heart, which was threatening to zoom back into swoony teenager territory. Because despite the “don’t mess with me” attitude, she knew he was one of the good ones.

Chapter 4

Thunk. The gas station pump signaled loudly that his beast of a truck was finally full. Cruz stuck the thing back into the socket and strode inside to pay.

“Afternoon,” said a man with a mop of shaggy blond hair. “Can I get you anything else?”

Cruz frowned at the clock. “Guess it is afternoon already.” He shook his head. He’d slept like shit, trying to convince himself that Rosie was home safe. Of course she would be. She hadn’t called. Then again, he’d practically ordered her to add his number to her phone. She probably accepted his info to get him out of the way.

He’d woken with restless energy and gone for a two-mile run around a few farm fields. Tiny green crops were barely visible, but if he stood back and looked at the thing as a whole, it was a Crayola color box green.

“Time flies here in Sundown,” the man said. “Ain’t you been in here once ‘fore?”

“Yeah. I just moved here.” Cruz stuck out his hand. “Name’s Cruz.”

“Marvin.” Marvin shook his hand and grinned. “Welcome.”

An old fashioned bell dinged to signal another customer outside at the pump. Cruz chuckled. “Haven’t heard one of those in a while.”

“I like it,” Marvin said. “Got all the fancy cameras and such too, but I like that old bell. Old as this place.”

Cruz nodded. “Nice to meet you, Marvin. I’ll probably see you soon.” Cruz pushed open the door into the bright sunlit noontime.

And holy hell.

Rosie was at the pump opposite his truck, one hand shoved into her denim shorts pocket, one on the fuel nozzle in her car. She stared at the numbers crawling up the display.

Cruz slowed his pace, greedy to take her in. She’d been wearing pants last night. Now her long, toned legs were on display. She wore low top light blue sneakers. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and she wore some kind of plaid shirt over another shirt.

He walked closer, wondering how long it would take her to notice him. The sunlight on her hair made it seem much lighter in the daytime. He didn’t care if that was sappy. He had somewhere to go today, but hell with it.

She turned then, blue eyes widening before her face lit up in recognition. “Cruz! Oh my gosh, small world.”

“Small town,” he said leaning a hip on the hood of her car.

“Haha, good one. Marvin’s is the only gas station in Sundown.”

“That’s good for business,” he said. “I take it you got home all right?”

“Yeah, fine.” She frowned. “Didn’t sleep super great, but that’s okay.”

“Bad dreams?”

“Restless.” She pressed her lips into a line, then released them. “Last night was …”

“Not something I want to be repeated,” he finished.

“Yeah.” She took a deep breath. “Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome again.”

Her pump stopped with a similar thunk to his and she replaced the nozzle. “So, what are you up to today?”

“Figured I’d update my driver’s license with my new info. Secretary of State likes people to do that.” And the last thing he needed was to get pulled over having a license with incorrect information.

“Ah. You’re going to the DMV in Marmion?”

“Yup.”

She nodded. “Well you best get going, they close early on Saturdays—wait!”

“What?”

“The bridge is out over Little Potato Creek.”

Cruz fought to hold in a laugh. Did she even know how quaint she sounded? He cleared his throat. “There’s a creek called Little Potato…and there’s one bridge over it, and it’s out? And this has to do with me renewing my license…how?”

“Don’t laugh, Mr. Chicago.” She set her hands on her hips. “You need to cross that creek—and hey,” she waved a finger in front of him, “I coulda said crick.”

Now he did laugh, because that exaggerated drawl she put on was the funniest, cutest thing he’d heard in his life. “Go ahead. Call it a crick. Do it enough and I might start saying it too.”

“Crick, crick, crick.” She laughed too, a playful sound that drifted over the air like a sexy remnant of a summer breeze. “No really, the bridge is under construction and the detour takes you so far out of the way. You won’t make it there in time.”

“Really? That’s some detour.”

“But, you’re in luck, because I know another way.” Blue eyes danced with mirth.

“That so?”

“Yep.”

“You gonna tell me how to get around your Tomato Crick?”

“It’s Potato, and I’ll do you one better. I’ll show you.”

“Show me?” His eyes roved the delicate curve of her neck. He should just ask for directions and leave. He should, if he were smart. But her smile and open nature were too tempting. “You have time?”

“Yeah. This is just a lazy Saturday afternoon. And this route? You gotta go in between Mr. Potter’s soybean fields on one of his tractor roads, but it butts up to Hanson’s fields and you have to turn before you—“

“Whoa. Is this one of those turn right at the oak tree and go as far as the rusty gate?”

“Kinda. It’s an unmarked rural road. You’ll get all turned around without a guide. I’ll get you there in plenty of time.”

She looked so determined. And even though he may never have done this before, he wasn’t going to turn down a sunny afternoon drive through the country with a pretty girl. Still, his conscience nagged him. She ought to be more cautious. “That’s really nice of you.”

“It’s the least I can do, after last night,” she said.

“Wanna let anyone know where you’re going?” He let the question hang there, hoping she read into his words.

“Nice of you to ask,” she murmured. She glanced over at his truck. “I’m not worried about getting in your car with you, Cruz. You kinda proved yourself last night.”

He soaked up the gratitude in her eyes, knowing he really didn’t deserve it. Maybe a sliver, but not whatever she must be feeling.

“And yeah, I’ll tell Marvin what we’re doing. You met him, right?”

Cruz nodded.

“He has the best pair of bloodhounds in Redemption County. If you try anything—which you won’t—those dogs’ll find me. And then they’ll find you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Christ, she was sunshine and attitude rolled into a girl he should stay away from. “Nice that you got folks watching out for you.”

She jogged inside, and he fought not to stare at her ass in those shorts. She was so opposite of anyone he knew. This place was so opposite of anywhere he’d been.

But that’s why he was here. New start, new town, new everything except his name. Which existed in dozens of articles on the internet. He idly wondered how long it would take before his past came to light. It wasn’t a secret, but also not something he announced to people he just met.

Rosie came back out, smiling, bounce in her step. “Ready for a real, genuine country drive?”

“Ready as ever.”

“Lemme just move my car.” She slid into her silver compact Ford and moved it over to a parking area, then joined him at his truck. He opened the passenger door for her to hop in.

He rounded the front of the truck and climbed in. “Where to, Rosie?”

If Rosie could have imagined three different ways her Saturday may have gone, riding around the county in Cruz’s truck would never have been one of them. Not because she didn’t want to.

But only because she never thought things would line up so well as to get to see him again so soon.

She’d tossed and tuned all night, ninety-nine percent because of him. Those jerks he’d beat up had faded quickly from her memory. The scare of what might have happened dissipated beneath the image of him—dark, angry, unforgiving. Cruz dominated her thoughts. Everything about him, from his intense stare, to his concern, to the swift way he’d dispatched two men—bare handed—wow.

And now, in the daylight, each sculpted muscle stood out on his arms. A gray T-shirt stretched across well-defined pecs and she could finally see that his eyes were a slate blue gray. Unusual. Stormy. Yet they still flickered with a twinkle of amusement at some of the things she said. Faded blue jeans fit his ass perfectly. She’d made sure to take a peek while she paid Marvin inside the station.

“Turn left at the stop sign.” She pointed ahead. “Then we’ll take that road ‘til it ends. Well, it looks like it ends.”

“And that’s where your secret ninja route begins.”

She snickered. “Sure. Not too many secrets in Sundown, that’s for sure.”

“You live in the town? Or out in one of these houses, like that one?” He nodded at a house surrounded by fields. “How does that work, anyway? If you live there, you work the land?”

“No, not always. Most of these farms were bought up, and one person brings in a crew to plant, and detassle corn, and harvest—whatever needs doing. But they don’t own the house. Someone else does. It looks like all the property should be together, but it’s owned by separate individuals.”

“Huh. So all of a sudden it might be harvest day and you get woken up to a tractor outside your bedroom window?”

“Pretty much.” She peered at a familiar blue Honda coming toward them. “Oh—there’s Brenda. Wave!”

Cruz obliged, and shot her a puzzled glance. “Never saw that before I got here. Why does everyone do that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I grew up with people doing it. I just figured people were nice.”

“Yeah sure, it’s nice. It’s just different.”

“I imagine a lot different from Chicago,” she said. “I’ve never been there.”

“Really?”

“Nope. What’s it like?”

He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “It’s….”

“Big? Loud?”

“I was gonna say, there’s good parts and bad parts. It’s a mix. A melting pot. You got Chinatown and Michigan Avenue. You got homeless people and billionaires. Parts are amazing. And some parts are best to stay away from.”

A shadow crossed his face and something unsaid hung in the air. Awareness prickled over her skin, that he knew those unsafe places. Maybe better than he wished. Where had he been? What had he seen? But she didn’t push. She barely knew him, and that stuff was personal. Maybe she’d get to ask him later. She hoped.

For now, she decided a subject change was a good idea. “So, the big melting pot is behind you. Why did you choose Sundown?”

He dropped one hand to the center console, giving her a good view of the black ink on his arm. No color to speak of. Why? What about the rest of his tattoos? “Why here?” He gave a short chuckle. “You’re gonna laugh.”

“No I won’t. I want to know. I…I’m glad you’re here.” The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them. Whoops. Damn it. But it was too late to take them back.

He grinned, revealing a dimple in his cheek. “Yeah?”

“Um…yeah.” She flushed. Doubly admitted it. “I mean, I hope that didn’t sound, um…”

“I’m glad to be here. But you’ll laugh because…” He shook his head. “Nah, it’s too dumb.”

She made a feminine playful gasp. “Tell me!”

“All right.” His fingers flexed on the console. “I wanted to move somewhere new and different. Get a fresh start. See a different part of the country. But all I knew was the city. I guessed the country had cows and stuff. But it all looked the same on the computer screen. So…” he paused. “I threw a dart at a map.”

“What?” Her jaw dropped. Who does that? “For real. A dart?”

“Yep.”

“And it landed on Sundown, Illinois.”

“Yep.”

The stars must have aligned. Someone up above must be looking out for her. That was the most random thing she’d ever heard of anyone doing with their life. Yeah, she’d heard of people traveling, backpacking through Europe, going where they wanted…but she’d never met anyone who ever actually packed up and moved to a completely new place.

“Well?” he asked.

I want to find that dart and put it in a display case. But that would sound insane. “That is the craziest thing I ever heard, Cruz….” She paused. “What’s your last name?”

“Zaffino. Yours?”

“Marlow. Guess we shoulda mentioned those details sooner.”

“Hey, we’re still in our first twenty-four hours of knowing each other. Think we get a pass.”

“True. So, Cruz Zaffino, throwing a dart to determine where you’ll live is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“But you’re not laughing.”

“Nope. Because it’s kinda brave and awesome too. Oh—turn here.” She pointed to the right.

“This’d be the unmarked road, I take it?” He steered the truck onto a road barely wide enough for two cars. If anyone else came this way, one of them would have to pull to the side.

“Yeah. This is where you need a guide.”

“All righty then. I’m officially at your mercy.”

She chuckled. “So, back to names…”

She swore he stiffened for a second, then his laid back demeanor returned. Maybe she’d imagined it.

“What about them?”

“Are you named after someone? I’ve never heard of Cruz for a first name.”

“Ah, that.” He nodded. “I’m so used to it, I forget not everyone knows it’s a nickname. My mom named me Christian.”

“That’s a nice name. How’d it turn into Cruz?”

“My friends in school. They just ran my first and last names together. Now almost everyone calls me that, except my mom and grandma. My sister calls me Christian if she’s pissed at me.”

They drove through soybean fields, where tiny shoots grew for acres around. Josh Turner’s deep voice carried from the radio, crooning about a hometown girl who’d lived all her life in the same place. Well, that fit her perfectly, and only highlighted the differences between her and Cruz. Though if he’d lived all his life in the city, that counted as the same place.

Just one that was exponentially bigger than hers.

Rosie turned in her seat so she was sitting diagonally, angled toward Cruz. His forearm had that word she couldn’t make out, and his bicep had a dark, pointed line peeking from below his T-shirt sleeve. “So, have you lived in the city all your life? College too?”

He shook his head. “Never went. High school was it for me. How about you?”

“Well, I’ve lived here all my life, like I said. I started college over in Graysville, but…” This was where things got awkward. But he had no idea. It was only weird for her. How do you explain something that’s too complicated to even start? “Dropped out.”

“Oh. Not for you?”

“Um…” She stared, unfocused at the endless green around them.

“Sorry. You don’t have to say,” he offered, misreading her silence. “Not really any of my business.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just that I haven’t had to tell anyone in so long. Everyone in Sundown knows me and knows…” She swallowed. Give him the cliff notes version. “I was in a bad car wreck when I was twenty-one. My recovery took several months and I stopped going to class. And I just never went back.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry.” He shot a quick glance at her. “You okay now?”

“Yeah.” Hell no, she wasn’t. But that was her secret, her cross to bear. It was the one thing no one else in Sundown knew. Not even her brother.

Chapter 5

Shane Marlow cruised down the one main thoroughfare of Sundown, named appropriately, Main Street. He had weekends off, unless the Redemption County courthouse had a trial going on that spilled over to a Saturday. And most judges didn’t want to come in on the weekend.

Beside him in the passenger seat of his patrol SUV sat his partner, Denver. Technically, the German shepherd was recommended to be in a kennel in the back. But neither of them liked that idea, and Denver was the best-trained dog in the county. Shane wasn’t worried about him charging out as soon as the door opened.

He passed the sole gas station in the town and spotted his sister’s car parked next to the building. He hadn’t talked to her in a day or so. Deciding to say hi, he swung the car into the lot and parked next to her.

He exited the car. Denver stayed put until Shane opened the passenger door. With a fluid leap, he bounded to the pavement, and they headed inside.

Marvin was seated at the counter, watching the baseball game on a tiny TV. “Hey, Shane, good to see ya. Hey, Denver.”

“Hi, Marvin.” Shane glanced around the empty store. Was Rosie in the bathroom?

“What brings you in? Need gas?” The deputies got to fill up their cars at a discreet, out of the way pump on the courthouse complex grounds. But if he ever ran low, Marvin insisted on supplying him for free.

“Nah, I was gonna say hi to Rosie. Her car’s out front.” Shane nodded toward the front windows.

“Oh, she ain’t here,” Marvin said. “She and the new guy went to the DMV in Marmion.”

“What?” Shane’s attention snapped to Marvin. “What new guy?”

“You ain’t seen him? Tall, tattoos all over his arms, just moved here. Palmer hired ‘im.”

“No, I haven’t seen him. What’s his name?”

“Ah shoot. I’m so bad with names. It’s….” Marvin scrunched up his face. “Chris? Dang it. Can’t remember.”

Shane paced the small space in front of the counter. “Rosie went somewhere with some guy who just moved to town? They go in his car? How does she know him?” Shane tried, really tried to not be crazy overprotective of his younger sister. But damn it. A stranger? He took a deep breath, then another. She’s a grown woman.

“Yup. Took his truck. They was chatting fer a bit afore they left. She came in to tell me where she was goin’.”

“Great,” Shane muttered.

“I know I ain’t talked to him for more’ en five minutes. But he came in here a week ago, and today, and both times he been real polite. Not all folks are.”

Shane grunted a reply and pulled out his phone. He opened the favorites page in his contacts and pressed her number, only to hear four unanswered rings. Her cheerful voice message greeted him after that. Shit. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Even though they were way past him vetting anyone she wanted to date, he couldn’t help it. He’d almost lost her once.

“I just worry about her, ya know?” He set his hands on his hips. Denver, very familiar with Marvin’s place, sat down in front of a beef jerky-filled endcap and turned big brown eyes on him. Smart dog, and it was his dinnertime. But Shane wasn’t ready to go home just yet. “You got footage I can check?”

“Yup.” Marvin fiddled with his computer, rewinding the display of four square black and white images above him. There was Rosie, chatting away with… damn—a guy he’d never seen before.

“That his truck?” Shane pointed to the black pickup parked at another pump.

“Yep.”

“Can you zoom in on the plate?”

Marvin did, and Shane grabbed a piece of paper and pen near the cash register. “Got it. Thanks.”

Marvin reset his camera feeds. “You’re a good brother and I know you two are close. But…” he turned to Shane, “she ain’t a kid no more.”

“I know.” Shane couldn’t object, Marvin’s words made sense. And some people would say he was going way overboard. “It’s just—I need to find out more about this guy who she decided to give a solo tour of the county to. For my own piece of mind.” He blew out a breath. “She’s my only sister.”

“I know. Just, sometimes you gotta give sisters some space. Lord knows. I got three of ‘em. Ain’t gonna listen to what they don’t wanna hear.”

“That’s why I need to check this guy out.” Shane pocketed the note. “Thanks, Marvin.” He turned to his dog. “Denver.”

The dog jumped to his feet, tail wagging, and they left the little store. Shane opened his car door and Denver leaped in. “All right, boy. In two minutes we’ll find out exactly who your Aunt Rosie is hanging out with today. And you’ll get dinner.”

Denver panted happily as Shane cranked the engine and guided the SUV through the handful of blocks to his house. Shane flexed his hands on the steering wheel, torn. He probably shouldn’t look up this dude’s plate. But that thread of logic warred with a need to know who in the hell this guy was. Rosie was smart, but trusting. Her body had fully healed after her accident. But something inside her was different. Sadder.

Shane couldn’t blame her. He’d been through his own hell in Kirkuk. And maybe that was why he had a borderline-crazy case of brotherly protectiveness.

Reaching his driveway, he shut off the SUV and opened the doors. He made sure to grab the laptop from the console and they hustled into the gray two-story, where Denver immediately beelined for the small kitchen and paced. The dog was so big, he nearly stretched from one end of the room to the other if you counted that tail. With practiced speed, he filled Denver’s food and water dishes.

He pulled the piece of paper from his pocket, where it nestled next to his phone. He could call Rosie again. But if he asked if she was okay she’d tell him to chill.

Hell. He stalked to a table in the tiny dining room, which was piled with papers, mail, chargers, and a printer. He sure as hell wasn’t going to use that room for its intended purpose. Opening the laptop, he pulled up the state site that his department used to access license plate data and typed in the string of numbers from Marvin’s.

It took two seconds for the screen to display the owner.

One second for Shane to scan the name and details.

Christian Zaffino. A Chicago address. Made sense that even if he had updated at the DMV today, the data base might not update until Monday.

Next Shane clicked over to a search engine and typed in the guy’s name.

Holy fucking shit.

Shane choked out a half curse, half cough. His breath left his lungs as a growl built in his chest. “Mother fucker!” he shouted.

The entire first screen of his search was full of articles with similar headlines:

Murder conviction overturned in Cook County.

Man, wrongfully convicted, leaves prison after ten years.

Zaffino freed, always maintained innocence

Witness recants to overturn Zaffino conviction

It went on and on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Shane breathed through clenched teeth. Wrongful conviction? Ten years in maximum security?

And Rosie was alone with this guy?

“Witness recanted,” Shane muttered, and forced himself to open an article from the Chicago Tribune. He scanned it, devouring the details like Denver had just devoured his dinner. Ten years ago Zaffino was convicted of murder. Three months ago a witness came forward to say he’d lied in the trial. He’d been the only one to place Zaffino at the scene.

“Holy shit.” He couldn’t wait another minute. He printed the article and dialed Rosie’s number.

Rosie couldn’t contain her giggle as she and Cruz left the drivers’ services building. “Did you hear yourself back there? You’ve only been here a week and you already sound just like you grew up here.”

“Nah.” Cruz shoved his hands in his pockets. “Just ‘cause I said ma’am a few times…”

“Yes ma’am. I reckon it’ll be nice weather all weekend, ma’am. Why sure I’ll squash that wasp that got inside the building, ma’am,” Rosie imitated him, exaggerating.

“Hey, those ladies were the nicest drivers services workers I‘ve ever seen. Back home they all yell at you to go stand in this line or that line.” He opened her door and she hopped in. He joined her a second later. “And that’s another thing. No line? Never see that before.”

“And your picture is good!” she exclaimed, still not believing it. “Everyone else’s looks like a mug shot.”

He jerked his head around to stare at her. All humor dropped from his face. He didn’t seem angry, exactly, but a fierce light flared in his eyes.

“What?” She fought the urge to peek over her shoulder to see if something was behind her. Because he suddenly threw off darkness. “What’s wrong?”

He blinked, then shook his head. “Nothing. Sorry. I thought…thought I left something inside. But uh, I’m good.”

She scanned their seats and the dashboard. “You didn’t bring much in, just some papers—you got those?”

“Yeah. You’re right.” He steered out of the tiny strip mall parking lot where the DMV was located and got onto the two lane road that would take them to the unmarked route. “Just retrace our steps, right?”

“Right.” What just happened? But his face was back to its casual sexiness and he had one hand draped over the wheel, looking perfectly at home in his truck on these country roads. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to dwell on it. Everyone had their quirks. Everyone had their secrets.

They drove back to Sundown, through endless green fields lit with the bright afternoon sun. Rosie relaxed into the leather seat as the time and miles flew by. She could rattle off who owned every patch of land they passed, and could identify each type of crop in the fields. And she felt like she was seeing it all through new eyes. How different this must be for Cruz. She snuck a glance at him. So handsome…and lord, she wanted to drag out this time with him. Would she be too bold if she asked him to get together sometime?

In no time they were back at Marvin’s gas station. Cruz pulled up next to her car and twisted to face her. “Thanks again for showing me that route. It was a nicer way to spend the afternoon than I’d planned.”

“You’re welcome. And yeah.” She smiled and giddiness built as slate blue eyes locked onto her like she was the only thing to see. “It was way more fun than the laundry I had on my schedule.”

He chuckled. “More fun than laundry. Now that’s a compliment.”

She giggled. “Stop it.”

He stretched one muscled arm across the back of the seats. “I really did have a good time. I’d like to see you again.”

Yes, yes, yes, yes! Rosie’s heart flipped. “Sure. That’d be great.”

He grinned and that dimple popped into view. God, that was cute, and he wasn’t exactly the cute type. More like devastatingly hot and dangerous. But then his smile faded. “Though you may have to suggest where we go. Got no clue where to hang out.”

“Hmm, okay. There’s—” She sucked in a breath. “I know! The county fair is next weekend!”

His brows knit. “County fair? Like with rides?”

“Yeah, there’s some rides…wait. Don’t you have fairs up in Chicago?”

His eyes twinkled. “That’d be a no.”

“What? You’ve been missing out!”

He ran a hand over his hair. “Maybe some of the suburbs have them, I don’t know. The city has a lot of street festivals, but I don’t know about a fair. Maybe there is and I just never heard about it.”

“Well, let me tell you, it is the place to be in Redemption County. That’s it. It’s settled. We’re going.” She folded her arms.

“Do they have people trying to grow giant vegetables?”

“They sure do. And a demolition derby.”

He laughed, a rich baritone sound that warmed her insides. “Then I’m there. Now that, I have to see.”

“Demolition derby is what’ll snag you, huh? Got it.”

“And, you know, the present company helps.” He drew out the words, letting them linger in the air. Full of promise.

Oh. She unfolded her arms, lost as to what to say. Cruz was different than anyone she’d met, and something about him screamed that there was so much more to him. Things hidden deep under the tattoos and don’t mess with me shell. She ought to be careful. But gosh. She was drawn to him like he’d snared her tightly and she wasn’t afraid, not one bit.

“Can I get your number? You already have mine.”

“Sure, of course.” She pulled out her phone and sent her contact info to his cell. “Will Saturday night work? I’m off.”

“Saturday it is.” A slow smile tilted his lips. Lips that looked like they could do a hundred naughty things to her. “See you then.”

“Okay.” She hopped out and crossed the few feet to her car. Catching Marvin’s eye through the window, she gave him a wave and got in to her car.

Leaving the station, she turned right to head to her little house, and Cruz continued driving straight. She glanced at his truck in her rearview mirror, still amazed at how the last twenty-four hours had gone.

Her house was just a mile outside town, surrounded by the fields she had told Cruz about. The property had been in her family for years. It was a little square brick two story, with windows on all sides and a front porch with a swing, and she loved it. She’d be there in five minutes—

Her phone trilled from the cup holder where she always kept it. Shane. According to new cell phone laws, she should put him on speaker, but she hated that and he knew it. She slid her finger across the screen to accept the call. “Hi, Shane.”

“Rosie. Where are you?” Her brother’s voice bordered on alarm, which in turn, scared the crap out of her.

“I’m almost home. I’m on Route Forty-five. Why—what’s wrong?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Uh-oh. Had he somehow heard about the three guys who’d harassed her last night? She hadn’t told anyone. She planned to tell Shane, just hadn’t had a chance yet. Crap, had those jerks filed a report—

“Are you still with that new guy?”

“What?” She couldn’t contain her shock. “First of all, no, I’m alone. And second, how did you know I was with him?”

“I stopped in at Marvin’s when I saw your car parked there. Listen, I need to talk to you right now. I’m coming over.”

“Shane what’s going on? You’re worrying me.”

“I have to explain in person. Be right there.” He ended the call.

“What the hell…” she murmured to herself. Shane was never like this. He was calm and controlled, like the former Army sergeant he was. It took a lot to rattle him.

She cruised down the road and turned into her quarter-mile-long driveway. At the halfway point, it turned ninety degrees and continued to the detached garage. She got out and already could see Shane’s car back at the turn off point, following her. Nerves and worry fired along her skin.

He sped toward her and hopped out, papers clutched in his hand. He didn’t even close his door. Didn’t open the passenger door like he usually did for his canine partner. “Denver.” He gave a foreign command, and his massive German shepherd leaped fluidly out after him.

Shane jogged toward Rosie, scrutinizing her. “Thank god. You’re okay.” He folded her into a hug.

She hugged him back, because she sensed he needed reassurance like he needed oxygen. “Of course I am.” She pulled away. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

“That new guy? Tattoos, from the city?”

“Yeah. What about him?”

“What do you know about him?” Shane’s eyes, a blue that matched her own, fired with anger.

“He just moved here from Chicago. Um, he works on Palmer’s crew. His name is Christian Zaffino but he goes by Cruz.” She shook her head. “What’s the problem?”

“Did he tell you where he’s been?”

“What do mean? He lived in the city—“

“Not for the last ten goddamn years.” Shane drew a breath and let it out slowly. She recognized that habit. He was forcing himself to be calm. “Rosie, he was just released from prison.”

Chapter 6

“Wh—?” Rosie’s heart, so recently filled with excitement, dropped like a stone. She couldn’t even form a word, let alone a sentence. Prison? Her breath came in short bursts.

Shane cast a dark glance at the sky. “Guessing Cruz didn’t mention that.”

She shook her head as thoughts jumbled together in her brain. Prison. Oh god. But he was released. That meant he was done? And what had he done…

“I know I sound like a broken record, but are you really okay? He didn’t hurt you?”

“No. He was completely nice. So polite.” Prison? The word repeated in her head like rifle shots that weren’t hitting their target. Over and over, bouncing around with no clear direction.

Shane just stared at her, a mix of compassion, frustration, and anger crossing his face.

No, no, no. Cruz wasn’t a bad man. She knew it. Shane needed to know it too. “You should have seen him at the DMV, he even killed a wasp for those ladies. Shane, oh my god…” She wrapped her arms around her waist. Breathe.

Shane heaved a sigh. “That’s nice, but it doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Wh-what did he do?” she asked, torn between needing to know and disbelief at her brother’s revelations.

“That’s the thing.” Shane glanced down at the papers he held. “Turns out, a judge reversed the conviction.”

Lightning may as well have hit her in the chest. Her jaw dropped and the breaths she had just fought to regulate nearly stopped all over again. “I have to sit down.” She turned and walked to her porch, where she slumped on the swing. “He-he didn’t do the thing he was accused of?”

Shane joined her, leaving Denver to his current interest of inspecting each flower and shrub in her front yard. “Nope. Up in the city they have so many of these wrongful convictions. It’s a mess. In Zaffino’s case, a witness recanted his testimony.”

Rosie couldn’t stop the hurt shock that slammed her full force. Unbidden tears sprang to her eyes. “Ten years later? Someone changed their story?”

Shane nodded.

“He served all that time…and he shouldn’t have? That’s ten years of his life, gone?” Bile rose in her throat. No, no, no. This happened to people in movies. Not in her life. Even though she’d barely met him, the injustice ripped through her with crippling force.

“I printed out an article for you, in case you wanted it…”

“How did you find all this out?” Though she knew he had his ways, he usually didn’t research guys she talked to. She and Cruz hadn’t even had a date yet. Then again, Shane already knew everyone she knew in their tiny town.

He sighed. “When Marvin told me you went off alone with this new tatted up dude, I pulled his plate off the security cameras and ran it.”

She wiped a tear. “Why ever for?”

“I was worried. Didn’t know how you knew him and all.”

“I’m gonna be spitting mad at you later, Shane Marlow. I’m twenty-six and I’m not an idiot. But right now I can’t handle…” She jabbed a finger at the papers. “How can this happen? We’re not a third world country, throwing people in jail.”

“Corrupt witnesses, crooked cops, DNA evidence that’s messed up…it happens. It’s shitty.”

“It’s more than shitty. It’s criminal.”

“I agree.”

“If you agree, and you know he was wrongfully imprisoned, then why are you here all worried about me? He was a perfect gentleman.” Rosie glared.

“That’s a good start.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do.” She sniffed. “He could have, and he didn’t.”

His eyes drifted over her yard, to his four-legged partner who was intently focused on a squirrel scampering above in a tree. “Rosie, a man can get dropped into hell. Maybe he did something to deserve it or maybe it just happens to him. But when he comes out, he doesn’t come out the same.”

“Shane...” Her whispered word died, because there was no point in continuing her thought. She’d nearly lost him to Iraqi terrorists, and she could tell his mind had snapped back to that awful day.

“You get stuck in an extreme situation, and it changes you. And maybe he was a good guy. I don’t know how he ended up taking the fall.”

Denver, done with the squirrel, trotted to the porch and set his big head on Rosie’s knee. She kept quiet and gave the dog’s ears a scratch, knowing her brother had to get these words out.

“But he spent a decade with guys who really did murder and rape and beat people. And there’s no way he’s the same as when he went in.”

She looked him in the eyes. “You can go through hell and be changed for the better. The whole trial by fire thing.”

He studied her for a second before breaking into a rueful grin. “I love you for that sunny attitude. But ten years doing hard time? I’m not trying to be an ass, but that sets off all kind of red flags.”

Sunny attitude? Not always. Maybe she was full of shit and lies today. She was the one whose trial by fire had ruined her. Because she wasn’t strong like Shane. But he never needed to know. He, like the rest of the town, figured her demons were behind her.

Instead, they’d live with her every day for the rest of her life.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he went on.

“Well, like I said, he isn’t going to hurt me. I’m one hundred percent certain.” She caught her brother’s gaze. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you this yet…but I had some trouble after work last night.”

Shane’s face morphed from gentle concern to alertness. “What kind of trouble?”

“These three guys came in. I’m guessing they were college kids. They sat at the bar all night demanding stuff every five minutes. And Brenda had gone home, and Livvie called in sick. I was doing everything. Cruz was there too. He came in with his friends from work, and he ended up at the bar for a bit. That’s where I met him.” She went on to detail the rest of the night, leaving out her own sappy thoughts about Cruz and the banter between them. What mattered was what Cruz had done for her.

“Fucking shit!” Shane clenched a fist when she finished. “You carded them, right? Do you remember their names?”

“Yes, I carded them, but there’s no way I remember who they are because we had a huge crowd.”

He stood and paced the porch, which ran the length of the house. “I’m gonna talk to Owen about not walking you outside. That’s bullshit.”

“I didn’t ask him to. He’s in his own hell right now with this audit.”

“Don’t care about a bunch of numbers when we’re talking about your safety.”

“This has never happened before. And I promise I’ll never walk outside alone again.” That was the truth. She’d been lucky. Cruz had no reason to stick around, and she still couldn’t quite believe he had. But next time, things could be a thousand percent worse. “Just to remind you, I’m here safe and sound because of Cruz. Maybe you should talk to him.”

Shane paused and leaned a shoulder on one of the support posts. “Yeah, I reckon I should.” He turned to her. “I may’ve had a knee-jerk reaction today.”

“I understand.” She and Shane had always been close, and the twists their lives had taken only tightened that bond. “Just try to see the good in him. He’s tryin’ for a fresh start.”

Her brother nodded. “Guess that’s the least any of us can ask for.”

After Shane left, Rosie pulled up a search engine on her phone and typed in Cruz’s name. The article Shane had left with her was at the top of the page, but there were dozens more. Almost all were the same Associated Press story.

Disbelief draped her like a suffocating blanket. He’d been convicted at age eighteen, tried as an adult. The story said he acted alone. Undisputed witness testimony placed him at a murder scene. A young man in a gang had been fatally shot, and Cruz had been armed.

Sexy, intense Cruz. Cruz with a dimple that shouldn’t be cute but was. Cruz killing a wasp for the ladies at the drivers’ license place. Cruz politely asking to see her again…

She rubbed her eyes, not even questioning why he hadn’t told her this huge detail. He’d said he wanted to move somewhere new and different. Well, who the hell could blame him? And saying you’d just been released from prison probably wasn’t tops on the list of things you’d share about yourself with new folks.

But her stomach was tied in knots of indignation, and she had to talk to him. Though telling him her over-protective deputy brother ran his plate and researched him might not go over well.

She had to do this in person. And she had to talk to him soon. She wouldn’t sleep well until she did. She scrolled through the contacts on her phone until she got his number, then hit the call symbol.

He picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Rosie.” His voice drawled her name in a way that made her want to keep him talking. Want to keep that deep rumble in her ear.

“Hi,” she said, and gulped. How could she even start this conversation? Should have thought this one through before she dialed.

“What’s going on? You get home okay?”

“Um, yeah. Yep. Just sitting on my front porch.” Shit. She needed to make up a reason to see him before next Saturday.

“Sounds nice.”

“Yeah. You’ll have to see it sometime.” Crap, she had to think of something. “So, um, I was wondering if um…If ah, you might want to do something tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? Yeah. Sure thing. My schedule is wide open.” A smile cut through his voice, easing some of her jitters. “What’d you have in mind?”

She loved the timbre of his voice and that he hadn’t shut her down, but felt so awkward at the same time. “Um…you wanna go fishing?”

Silence for a beat. “Ah…” he chuckled. “Sure. There’s a first time for everything.”

“You’ve never been fishing?” Whew, he was going along with it.

“Nope.”

“Well, then. It’s time you learned,” she said. “There’s a great fishing hole nearby. But I have to show you where it is.”

“Lemme guess. It’s another unmarked secret?”

“Yep.”

“Is it at your Watermelon Creek?”

“Little Potato, and yes.”

“All right. I’m in. Though I don’t exactly have any fishing gear.”

She giggled, part nerves and part thanking him for the unintentional tension breaker. “I’ll bring mine.”

“Sounds like a plan. What time?”

In theory, fishing was better in the early morning hours, but she didn’t know how early he’d be open to. “Eight? And I can come to your place.”

“I didn’t tell you where I’m staying.”

“I saw it when you renewed your license, silly.”

“Damn, you don’t miss much.”

“That, and there are no apartments in Sundown, and only one house for rent as of two weeks ago.” She ran a hand through her hair, finally feeling her muscles relax. “I heard it was recently taken but didn’t know by whom.”

“There you go. You got it all figured out.”

Not hardly. But she no longer had to remind herself to breathe, because his easy rumble was soothing her in a way she didn’t expect. “I try. Don’t always succeed. So I’ll be at your place at eight tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it. I’m glad you called.”

“Me too. Night, Cruz.”

“Night, Rosie.”

She ended the call without checking to see if he hung up first. A huge sigh escaped her and she sagged into the cushions on her swing. She had a fake fishing date with Cruz Zaffino, and she couldn’t wait for it.

A twinge of guilt filtered through her mind. She was, essentially, lying about wanting to go fishing. It was a total excuse for her real purpose. Would he be mad?

Then again, his story was all over the web. It had made headlines. It wasn’t exactly a secret. He was smart enough to realize that. Maybe she was bringing it up before he would want to, but it was a risk she had to take, because she couldn’t sit on this bombshell of information. She closed her eyes, hoping against hope that he’d still speak to her after she told him she knew where he’d been for the last decade.

Chapter 7

Cruz rose early out of habit, instantly alert. Ten years of harsh wake-ups had erased his ability to wake up gradually. In sleep, there was vulnerability. In sleep, there were whispered conversations you didn’t hear. Secrets in prison were never good.

But here in Sundown, the sun already blazed brightly in the spring sky. Birds chirped in the oak tree outside his bedroom window. It was so damn idyllic, he couldn’t have even made this up.

He roamed to the kitchen of his rented house and grabbed a mug, prepping himself for some crappy instant coffee. Eyeing the coffee pot, he debated. Rosie would be here in two hours. Maybe she’d want coffee.

Maybe she won’t want two-hour-old coffee, Cruz. He frowned and made his one cup, black and hot enough to sear taste buds.

Her call last night had been unexpected. She’d seemed nervous at first, and her drawl had been more pronounced. It was so fucking cute, and he didn’t know if she had any idea how much. She’d made the word “porch” into two syllables, something he never heard before. Out of the blue, he wondered what she’d sound like, whispering with that sexy soft accent in his ear. Telling him things she wanted him to do to her—

Whoa. Fuck. It was way too soon to go there. She was pretty. No—she was damn sexy. She was friendly and funny and open. But that’s all her intent might be. Though they did have a date next weekend, and he hadn’t missed the flush on her cheeks when he’d asked her out.

He gulped a swig of his coffee, putting thoughts of next weekend out of his head and coming back to today. She’d wanted to take him fishing? Of all the things girls had wanted to do with him, fishing had never been on the list.

Time with a pretty girl wasn’t on his agenda for starting his life over. Fixing himself up and finding whatever the hell his new normal was, was his priority. But Rosie kept surprising him.

He downed his coffee and stretched. He ran through a series of exercises he had done every day for ten years. Pushups, tricep dips, plank, squats. Things you could do with no equipment.

Things you could do in a cell.

Next up was a quick run—not as long as yesterday’s because he didn’t want to miss Rosie. He was already addicted to the fresh country air, and figured he could do this well into the winter. He’d always thought people who jogged in ten degree weather were nuts, but here, he just might join their ranks.

He was back, showered, and dressed by the time tires rolled over the curb outside and a car door slammed. Eight am, on the dot. He opened the door to see Rosie coming up the front walk, looking like a model, honey blond hair long and loose around her shoulders. She wore a white V-neck T-shirt, denim shorts and those little blue sneakers she had on yesterday. Mirrored aviator sunglasses gave her a half-badass and half-sexy air. Add to that her country girl sweetness and drawl, and she was a mix of temptations he should have nothing to do with.

But he was going to. Something about her drew him in. Under the sweetness simmered something deeper. He’d seen a flicker of it yesterday, one she’d quickly covered up. Maybe they both had their secrets. One day, maybe they’d get to the sharing point…but for now, Cruz just stared, then remembered to smile. “Morning.”

“Good morning.” She pushed her shades up into her hair. “Ready to start the day?”

“Start?” He held in a grin as she got close. There was no step up to the door. She reached his chin, their height difference enough that she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes. “I’ve already worked out and made coffee. Want some?”

“Wow, I’m impressed. And yes to coffee. It really ought to be its own food group.”

He gestured for her to come in and closed the door behind her. “So this is home. It’s small, but you probably already knew that. I’m still getting settled in. Come on back.”

She followed him through the sparsely furnished house to the kitchen, where he poured her coffee from the fresh pot he’d brewed. “Oh, damn.”

“What?” she asked.

“I don’t have cream or sugar. I drink it black. I uh, don’t have a lot of food. Frozen pizza, sure, but…”

“It’s okay. I can just add milk—do you have that?”

Thank god he did. “Yep. I’m partly civilized.” He winked at her, and grabbed the milk from the fridge.

“Thanks.” She poured in a little and stirred.

“So, fishing.” He leaned a hip on the beige laminate counter and watched her. “Hope you’re patient, ‘cause I’m a newbie. I might get your fishing line stuck in a tree or something.”

She took a sip, and big blue eyes met his with a seriousness he didn’t anticipate. She stared at him, quiet, and he wondered what the hell he’d said wrong. His coffee couldn’t be that bad.

“I had a really nice time yesterday,” she began.

Okay, not what he expected her to say. But he’d take it. “Me too.”

“Um...” her eyes darted to the side, then out the window behind him. “I have to tell you something.”

He studied her stiff posture as foreboding questions multiplied in his brain. “Okay. What’s up?”

Her brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, I—” she sighed. “I didn’t really want to go fishing. I just wanted to talk to you. In person. And, you know…just us. Privately.”

He took in her tense shoulders and uncertain eyes. Thought about her easy happiness yesterday afternoon and then her nervousness on the phone at night. He sure as hell didn’t mind getting her alone. Why would she hesitate? “You don’t have to make up a story to talk to me.”

“I thought I’d sound crazy if I had asked to come over last night.”

He fought the urge to let his eyes roam her curves. “Crazy probably wouldn’t have been my first thought.”

She bit her lip. “And there’s that, as well. I didn’t want to give the wrong idea.” She set her mug down. “I-I don’t really know where to start.”

“Did something happen yesterday?” He folded his arms. “Everything seemed cool when I dropped you off at the gas station.”

“It was. And, yeah. Something happened. I had a talk with my brother.”

“Okay…” The words hung in the air. What did he have to do with anything?

“I don’t know if you remember, I told you he’s a cop.” She stopped, watching his face.

“I remember.” She’d said so after the three asshole amigos had driven off from the bar. “And?”

“And, he happened to drive by Marvin’s yesterday while you and I were at the DMV. He saw my car and decided to pop in and say hello.”

Unease prickled along Cruz’s spine with a sudden sense of where this might be headed. “And you weren’t there.”

She fidgeted with a lock of her hair. “No, and Marvin told him I’d gone with you…and he…God. I’m sorry. You’re gonna think he’s nuts or an ass or both.”

Cruz waited, unwilling to offer any guesses. He had to let her say whatever it was, no matter how bad it got.

She swallowed and looked at the small kitchen table. At the fridge. Anywhere but at him. “He pulled your license plate from the security footage and ran it. Then…he searched your name online.” Finally her eyes found his, full of apology.

Her words rang in his head like gunshots echoing off the buildings where he’d earned his reputation. Fucking hell. He knew it was only a matter of time before his past became town news…but he didn’t expect it to unfold this way. And even after all he’d gone through, he was the one to feel guilt that she hadn’t heard it from him first.

“I see.” He stared her down, unsure if she was appalled to be in his presence. “Did you want to tell me in person that you never want to see me again?”

“No!” Her pretty mouth made a shocked circle and she clapped a hand over her heart. “No, no, no. Not at all! Cruz.” She stepped closer. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I’m sorry Shane—my brother—searched you out like that. But I’m sorry mostly for what you went through.” She gulped air, her distress as clear as the blue sky outside. “No—sorry’s not good enough. I am horrified by what I read online. Sick to my stomach over what happened to you. I feel awful. I know it’s not my fault in any way. But…ten years?”

He kept quiet, because her blast of anguish knocked him speechless. People’s reactions to his situation ranged from thinking he must have done something to deserve it, to rage at the entire criminal justice system. But this compassion seemed natural from her. And as if to prove his gut instinct, her eyes watered.

“I just can’t wrap my head around it. It’s so unfair. You just want to live your life, and instead, you got a nightmare.” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

He paced to the kitchen window above the sink and gazed out at the green fields behind his house. Hills rolled in the distance. No high rise apartments with broken windows and dangling fire escapes. Hell, he wanted to make Sundown his new home. But maybe he couldn’t ever get far enough away from his past.

Rosie’s shaky breaths rasped in the quiet kitchen. “Cruz? Are you mad that I know this?”

“No.” He dragged his gaze from the window and to her sincere, concerned face. “I know the information is out there.”

“I get that it’s stuff you might not share with someone you just met,” she said quietly.

Did she? Did she know what it was like to have a darkness inside that you wanted to keep hidden, yet couldn’t? One that would stay with you forever? “Do you wish I had told you yesterday?”

“I don’t know. I mean, how do you even start a conversation like that? Where and when…”

“Everyone who knew me from before, already knows.” He shoved a hand in his pocket. “So this is new territory.”

“Now that, I totally understand.” Soft words echoed with regret. “When folks know all your business. And remember it forever.”

He nodded. “It sucks, but you gotta face that crap. Or ignore it. Either way, your story is still your story.”

Her countenance changed, as if she’d gone a thousand miles away. “True.”

“I bet I don’t know every single thing about you, Rosie Marlow.”

She shook her head, and a sad smile tugged at her lip.

There it was again, that flicker of something he couldn’t name. “We’ll take it one day at a time. Unless, you know, you came over here to say it was nice knowing you, don’t bother coming back to my bar.”

“No.” So much earnestness packed into one little word. “Just the opposite. I wanted you to know that Shane found all that stuff out. And he’s being crazy overprotective. But I told him how you fought off those guys after work the other night. I-I know we just met…” Big blue eyes locked onto his. “But I’m not afraid of being with you.”

“You got nothing to worry about around me.” That was the honest truth, though he didn’t know if he’d ever get his life right. “And your brother? I can’t blame him, I have a sister and I’d sure as hell dig up info on anyone she dated.” And he felt like shit that he hadn’t been able to while he was behind bars. “But I came here for a fresh start. We’ll see if it was a good idea or the worst one I ever had.”

“I’m hoping it was the former,” she murmured. “And this may sound stupid, but you can talk to me. I can’t imagine what those ten years were like. But I can be a listening ear, if you ever want. Sometimes you just need to get things off your chest.”

“True.” Though the memories of the other inmates, the wardens, the hardened souls, wasn’t something he felt he could ever share with this sunny girl.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person. Or deserving of any label, just because of what happened.”

He raised a brow. “Thanks.”

She sighed. “I was up last night worrying, thinking of what I would say to you today.”

“That’s two nights of shitty sleep for you.”

“I know. I just…” She walked two steps to the table and sat down. “I was a mess. When Shane told me, I just felt sad, mad, shocked, wanting to punch someone…but whatever I felt is nothing compared to whatever you feel. I’m sorry.”

He joined her at the table, bringing them closer together than even in his car. “Stop it. You had nothing to do with it and can’t do anything to change it.”

“How are you calm, and not wanting to beat the crap out of someone?” she whispered.

He gave a derisive laugh. “Many days, I did want to. Some days, I even got the chance.”

Her eyes widened.

“Not often,” he went on quickly. “And when fights happened we all paid the price. But I had a lot of time to think about it. Time to think about a lot of things.”

A red round wall clock that had come with the house ticked softly from its spot above the doorway to the living room. Rosie traced a scratch in the surface of the table he got at Goodwill. Her hands, slender and smooth, stood out in contrast to his. Hers bore no scars or tattoos, just short, neat fingernails painted pale pink.

Her fingers inched closer to where his hand rested on the surface. “I guess this wasn’t the greatest conversation for first thing in the morning.”

“Not one I thought we’d be having today, but…like I said, I guess we’d have had it eventually.” He tapped his pinky on hers, because she still studied the table. “You okay?”

Surprise flashed in those baby blues. “Me? I should be asking you that. I’m the one who ambushed you.”

If that was her idea of an ambush, she could do it every day. “I’m good.” There was a shit ton more baggage he carried, but there was no need to dump all that on the table now. They’d cleared the biggest hurdle.

“Do we still have a date for next Saturday?” Her question was soft and shy.

As if he’d change his mind. “Thought we had a date for this morning.”

More surprise danced across her face. “You really want to go fishing?”

“Sure. Or anything else. You’re on my calendar for the whole morning.” Actually the whole damn day if she was free.

“All right. You’re on. Though I haven’t been out yet this year and we’ll need to buy bait.” A sweet smile tugged her pouty lips upward. “The bass should be hoppin’. Let’s go.”

Chapter 8

Ten minutes later, Cruz followed Rosie through a stretch of trees. It was just them, and he didn’t even try not to stare at her sweet little ass. Weeds and bushes grew into the narrow shaded trail that she navigated as birds chattered overhead.

“This leads to the famous Potato Creek?” he asked.

“That’s right.” She pushed a low-hanging branch out of her way and held it for him. “The one and only.”

Gurgling reached his ears as the woods thickened, then abruptly ended. They stood on a raised bank at the edge of the creek, which looked more like a river to him, but what did he know about creeks versus rivers. Its current dashed and swirled around smooth gray rocks. On the opposite side, chipmunks darted back and forth.

“Here we are.” She set her hands on her hips. “Shane and I used to come here all the time when we were little.”

“Did you catch anything?”

“Sure, lots of fish. Bass, bluegill.” She walked to the edge and peered down. “If we caught a big enough one, our grandpa would clean it and we’d have it for dinner.”

“That’s cool.” Another slice of Sundown life that was night and day to his own upbringing.

“I don’t clean fish, so if we catch any bass today, we’ll just admire them and toss ‘em back. Ready?”

“Yep.”

Taking the tackle box he’d carried, she set it down to open it, revealing a slew of unfamiliar items. She removed a giant metal spike with a hole at the top.

“That looks lethal.”

“Oh this?” She handed the spike to him. “It’s just a holder. It’ll make things easier if the fish are taking forever to bite. Could you stick this in the dirt? Just in case we need it.”

“Sure.” He shoved the spike into the soft earth.

Next she opened the can of live worms they’d purchased at Marvin’s. She deftly plucked a worm from the container and stuck it on the hook. “This is how you do it. Easy as pie. You can do the next one.”

He just grinned, thinking how the girls he’d grown up with would probably never ever touch a worm. This town may as well be in a different country.

“Now, you need to cast it farther than you think. It doesn’t weigh much. Like this.” She drew her arm back. “Way back. See how far I’m going?”

Her body was so damn tempting. “Yeah, I see.” He couldn’t keep the huskiness out of his voice as he took in her small waist and pert breasts, back to her slender arm that stretched into a perfect pose.

She blinked, frozen under the stare he didn’t avert. A flush crept up her throat and into her cheeks. “Okay, so…” She cleared her throat. “You, um, go forward. Like this.” With a swift toss, the line sailed out into the middle of the current.

“You make it look easy,” he said.

“Not too bad…” She started reeling the line in. “For havin’ a distraction.”

“Sorry.”

“Really?” An arched brow as she turned to him.

Hell. They were past hiding certain things. “No.”

“Didn’t think so,” she murmured, getting the line out of the water. With a challenge in her smile, she handed the pole to him. “Your turn.”

“Okay. Pressure’s on.” He took the pole from her and set his legs the same way she had.

“Mm-hmm,” she said. “Your feet are right.”

“Now for the tricky part.” He brought his arm back. Not the same way she had.

“No.” She stepped close to his right side. “Like this.” She grasped his wrist with one hand and pushed on his bicep with the other.

Her touch was soft yet firm and sent arrows of heat to his groin. And shit, she was only touching his arm. What would her hands feel like if she explored the rest of his body?

“Relax.” Her southern drawl was too near his ear for him to think. “I can’t even move you. Your arm’s like a tree.”

He grunted and let her move his arm. Not that he would remember how it was supposed to be positioned.

“There.” Her words were sparks dropping on his skin. “Got it?”

He turned to her. She stood so close, the breeze picked up a lock of her hair and blew it across his mouth. “Ooops, sorry.” She let out a nervous laugh and went to grab it.

Swiftly, he reached across with his left hand and gripped hers, stopping her movement. He didn’t know how much more of her gentle touch he could take without grabbing her and devouring her sexy mouth. Being alone out here with her was both a bad idea and an excellent one that were mixing into a storm he didn’t want to walk out of.

But how did she feel? Sure, her sweet, open nature could be taken as flirty. But he wouldn’t make the mistake of assuming she returned his heated thoughts. And he would never take someone’s choices away from them, never take advantage of another. Especially not someone who’d discovered the truth about him and decided not to judge.

Rosie sucked in a breath as his hand fully encircled her tiny wrist. “I’m sorry. I—”

“Shh.” He moved her hand ever so slightly to the side. “It’s okay.” He released her, dragging his finger across hers for one last greedy brush of contact, and forced himself to take a step back. The feather-soft tendril of her hair disengaged from his skin. “I think I need to see you do it again.”

Her blues eyes remained locked on his and she lowered her hand slowly, as if she didn’t really want to move it at all. “Um, okay.” Her breaths forced out in short bursts. “You want to see me cast the line again?”

He nodded.

“’Kay.” Her voice rasped over the syllable. “Um…you have the pole.”

He clenched his teeth, holding in a laugh and a groan at her words. A hundred dirty responses barreled through his mind. But he waited, on a crazy edge of arousal and amusement, for her to realize what she said. Three, two, one—

She turned scarlet and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god. I did not just say that.”

It would’ve been completely funny—if he wasn’t getting more turned on by the minute. Every word from her mouth, every expression that crossed her face snared him deeper. He soaked up all the cute mortification that rolled off her in waves. “I think you did.”

“Oh my god. That’s where my mind went. Just great.” She covered her eyes, then peeked through her fingers. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Hell, his mind was already way past that.

She shoved her hair away from her face. “Okay. I’m gonna try and forget I said that, like a total pervert.” She cleared her throat. “Now. Give me.” She looked pointedly at the fishing pole he still held. “That.”

He handed it over.

With quick, practiced ease, she cast the line into the creek. “All right, let’s just let that set for a spell.” She rested the pole handle in the holder that he’d stuck into the ground.

Damn. He couldn’t resist. “You talk all country-like when you’re flustered.”

She pressed her lips into a line, staying silent.

“I like it.” He went on.

“I hope you don’t think I’m a total farm girl hick,” she muttered, with zero drawl.

“I hope you don’t think I’m a big-city fast-talking asshole.”

“I don’t! Of course not.” She frowned “Stereotypes suck. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No worries. I was teasing you on purpose.” He peered up at a blue dragonfly that zoomed over her head.

“Cruz Zaffino, you got me all riled up and I don’t feel like fishing. “

“No?” Those hundred thoughts returned in a wave. He was up for anything she had in mind, especially after her double entendre. “What do you want to do?”

“Just talk?” The slightest hesitation in her voice, as if he’d say no.

And a no to her would never happen. “We can do that.” He gestured to the soft grass. “Sit with me?”

“Sure.” She sat and he lowered himself down next to her.

He glanced at her toned arms, hugging her knees to her chest as she looked out at the water. “So, what do you want to know that the internet didn’t already tell you?”

“Well…I hope you don’t mind me askin’…” She fiddled with a shoelace, twisting it back and forth between her thumb and first finger. “It’s just…I don’t understand how one person’s words can put you behind bars. I mean, aren’t you supposed to be innocent until proven guilty?” She rested her head on her knee and gazed at him. “How does that happen?”

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and watched the wind lift a tendril of her hair. It stayed there, buoyed for a second, while the reality of his past slammed him hard. How to even explain the mess that happened ten years ago? But his case was closed. Over. Done. He had nothing to hide. She may as well hear it from him. “I was at the scene. It was a gang initiation gone wrong.”

Her lips parted. “Who…who was getting initiated?”

“Me.” It was a simple fact, but why did it feel like an admission of guilt around her? Because you know what your intent was.

A hundred questions flickered in her eyes. Of course they would. That life was as far from her own as life on another planet. But he sure as hell wasn’t innocent, and she deserved to know that.

“A man was targeted,” he began. “He was from a gang called Los Reyes. They’re rivals of the one I wanted to join, which was the South Side Cobras.” He paused, because those words rolling off his tongue here at Little Potato Creek sounded way beyond odd. But it was his life story, and Rosie had already learned the online version. He only hoped she wasn’t horrified by the flip side of things.

“The Reyes man had interfered in a Cobra drug deal. Two Cobra men came with me to make sure I carried out the job.” He studied her expression, searching for any signs of revulsion at what he was implying. But all he found were those big eyes, locked on him with a mix of compassion and openness. Damn…

He took a breath. “We chased the guy into an alley. There were no fire escapes. Maybe he thought there was a way out the other side, I don’t know. He was trapped. Cornered. One of my guys told me to shoot.” He paused as images of that night flashed back, rapid-fire, through his mind. Rusty bars over sooty windows. Cracked sidewalks beneath his cheek as he was forced to the ground and handcuffed, a cop’s knee in his back. “I froze.”

Rosie let out a shuddering breath.

“The guy who told me to shoot—Arturo—he got pissed when I didn’t do it fast enough.” Cruz ran a hand over his hair. “I had never killed anyone. I couldn’t do it. Arturo said if I wasn’t going to then he was. He grabbed my gun and started shooting. Juanito, the other guy with us, started shooting too. And then the Reyes guy started. In all the gunfire, the Reyes man got killed.”

“But…” She straightened and shifted to face him. “You didn’t do it.”

“No. Then the cops showed up. No surprise because they patrol those neighborhoods a lot, trying to stop the violence.” He shook his head at the irony. Adding police hadn’t lessened the gun violence. “So we all ran. But they caught me and Juanito. Arturo got away.”

A tiny frown formed between her brows.

“Johnny Crazy Legs—that’s Juanito—was mad. It was him and me, and he said I did it.”

“But that wasn’t true. How could they believe him?”

“There was a dead man, and me and Johnny standing there. Arturo’s fingerprints and mine were both on my gun. Johnny’s weapon was different. They arrested both of us, took our guns. Forensic experts could tell both weapons had been fired. But my bullets matched what killed the guy. It was Johnny’s word against mine.”

“That’s horrible,” she whispered.

Not as horrible as what I was supposed to do. But he let her declaration hang in the air. “Our justice system isn’t perfect. And I was never initiated.”

“But you took the fall.”

“I knew Arturo really did it. But my jail sentence was better than the alternative. Ratting out any of the Cobras would’ve meant death. Slow and painful, for me. And maybe for my sister and mom as well. It was a lose-lose situation.”

“That’s so awful, I don’t even have words for it.” Anger tinged the sad edge in her voice.

He looked over at the bubbling creek, the towering trees on both banks, and breathed the country air. The contrast of then and now had never been more apparent and yet both existed closely together, like they couldn’t truly separate. When he’d first been incarcerated, he’d echoed her angry words. “Though after a few years, something changed.”

“What?”

“I saw so many men come in. Hopeless, angry, dropouts. Thought they’d rise to the top of a gang and have a steady stream of drug money and women. But all they got was jail time. More felonies added to their records. Some got released and came back, while I was still in.”

Her eyes widened.

“It’s a vicious cycle. And I realized that would have been my life too. Once you’re in one of those gangs, you’re in forever. And after seeing so many men in that situation, having no future…I realized I didn’t want that.” He met her open, sincere expression. “This probably sounds like fucked up logic, but prison kept me from committing more crimes. It made me see the real side of gang life. I ah…” He shook his head. “This is gonna sound lame, but I dodged a bullet.”

“Cruz, what you’ve gone through…” The sweetest compassion shone in her face. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t know what to say that I haven’t already said.”

“No need to say anything. I know that’s probably more than you expected to hear.”

“I asked.” She swallowed. “I’m glad you told me. And I’m glad you’re here in Sundown.”

“Me too.” He gave a half smile at her admission, because her mind had to be reeling. “Anything else you want to know?”

“Actually, yeah.” Her gaze traveled his arms, stopping at his right forearm. “What does that mean?”

Sobrevivir. The word covered his skin from elbow to wrist. The font was thick black script, with the ends of the letters swirling and curling above and below, fading into thin wisps of ink. “It means survive.”

“Oh,” she murmured, appreciation in her voice. “I love that. So much packed into one word.” She tilted her head and her lips moved as she mouthed the four syllables. “Why is it in Spanish? It’s Spanish, right?”

He nodded. “My mom is Mexican.”

“And Zaffino is…”

“Italian, from my dad. But he took off after my sister was born. He’s not part of our lives.”

“I’m sorry.” She winced. “I’ve asked all the wrong questions today. I’ll stop.”

“It’s okay.” As long as she could handle his truths, he’d share them.

“Thanks for telling me all that. I get that you might not want to talk about it and I get that it’s not easy.” The breeze picked up the ends of her hair and played with them, sending a wave of a fruity shampoo scent his way.

He breathed her in, sweetness and a hint of shyness wrapped in sexy honey blond waves. “I’ll be straight with you. There might be things that I’m not proud of, but that doesn’t mean you don’t get to hear them.”

“Ditto on the not proud stuff.” Her voice was a barely-there whisper that fired his curiosity.

Hell, what did she have haunting her? What was she not proud of? From her outward, sunny self, he couldn’t imagine what would make those shadows flicker across her face. But lord help him, he planned to find out.

Chapter 9

“Aunt Rosie gets to be the queen now!” yelled Ariel, Brenda’s almost-six-year-old daughter.

“Yeah, yeah!” chimed in Iris, her younger daughter. “She gots to put on the crown. Here!”

Rosie winced as the four-year-old not-so-gently stuck the glittery plastic tiara on her head. “Why thank you, kind princess.”

“Oh, and barrettes too!” Ariel scooped a dozen small colorful barrettes from the rug and proceeded to attach them haphazardly to Rosie’s hair.

“Wow, we are going to be the prettiest girls at the ball!” Rosie cooed. “But we only have ten more minutes and then I gotta meet your momma at work.”

“Not work. You have to go to the ball!” Iris insisted.

Would be nice to go to a ball instead of work. Singing came from the kitchen, where Brenda’s mom had just arrived to take over the girls. Rosie had covered the early part of Brenda’s lunch shift, but she had to go in for the evening shift. “You girls gotta let your Aunt Rosie go now,” Janet said.

“I can stay five more minutes,” Rosie called back, and stood up from her cross-legged pose on the floor. “All right. You are going to dance with princes so let’s practice. You can’t step on their toes.” She grabbed Ariel’s hand and twirled her around, then did the same to Iris.

After just three minutes, the girls moved on to falling down in dizzy heaps, debating who fell in a way most like a princess would fall. “I must go, princesses. Please prepare for the arrival of Queen Mom.”

“That means pick up all that stuff, girls,” Janet called. “And say goodbye to your Auntie.”

“Bye, Aunt Rosie!” Two sets of tiny arms encircled her waist and squeezed.

She bent to kiss each of their heads. “Bye, my sweeties. See you soon!” She removed her crown and handed it to Ariel, then began unsnapping the barrettes from her hair.

“No you need to keep this,” Ariel insisted. “Mommy says you got a date with a prince. You need the crown.”

“A date with a prince?” Rosie giggled. “Hmmm.” She made a mental note to grill Brenda.

“Is he very handsome?” Iris demanded.

“Can he dance?” Ariel whirled in a circle.

“Um, we haven’t danced yet, so I’m not sure.” Rosie edged toward the door, hoping to avoid any more questions. It had been a week since her fishing trip with Cruz. Now, with the fair all over the news, she was counting the hours until tomorrow night.

“But is he handsome?” Iris was not to be denied an answer.

No question there. Cruz was meltingly hot, with those intense eyes and hard muscles…“Yes. He’s very handsome.”

“Oooohhhh!” They both collapsed into fits of giggles.

“On that note, goodbye, girls.” Rosie waved to Janet and headed out of Brenda’s ranch-style house, to her car parked at the curb. Her shift and Brenda’s would overlap by half an hour.

Brenda had terrible luck with sitters. Her mom worked as a nurse at the hospital in Murphysboro and helped out frequently. Rosie also stepped in when she could. The girls were sweet, they listened to her, and their favorite thing was playing princess—who wouldn’t love that?

She drove the mile to the Sundown Bar and Grille and drove around to the employee parking area. She’d worked one night and a couple days this week, and Owen and George had walked her out each time. Though she had insisted she didn’t need to be escorted in the daytime, they were adamant.

Entering the building, she called out hello to Owen and ducked into the employees’ rooms to stow her purse. Rosie tied on her black half apron and headed to the kitchen, where George manned his post at the stove. “How’s it going today, George?”

He waved in between stirring two pans. “Busy, busy. It’s all good.”

“Hey, girl,” Brenda chirped, entering the kitchen with a tray full of empty glasses. “It’s been a busy Friday. You can tell it’s payday—oh. Hang on.” She set down her tray and reached her hand toward Rosie’s face. “Somehow, you’ve got blue eyeshadow on your jaw.” She swiped Rosie’s skin with a gentle finger.

“Mm-hm. And somehow…your girls know I have a date coming up.”

“Oh, they’re excited for you! I couldn’t resist telling them.” Brenda grinned. “Heck, I’m excited for you. When was the last time you had a date?”

“I don’t remember and that’s not import—”

“See? It’s been too long if you don’t remember.” Brenda reached back to adjust her ponytail. “Cute new guy, defends you from some assholes…”

Rosie couldn’t suppress a smile. She hadn’t seen Cruz since the fishing date that involved barely any fish, but she’d thought about him every day. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help wondering if he’d stop by the Grille, though he’d told her that his crew was working long hours to take advantage of the nice weather. Get a jump on the load of projects they had to get done this year, before the weather turned too cold.

She’d told Brenda about Cruz’s past, the little that she knew. Nothing stayed secret in Sundown, and she’d rather have Brenda hear it from her. “Thanks for being cool about him, Bren.”

“Pssht.” Brenda popped a hand on her hip. “Ain’t none of us saints. I don’t care where he came from. All I know is he coulda left like most customers that night. After all, he was done eating and drinking. But he stayed. He says he was on his phone. Girl, I think he was worried about you.”

“Maybe.”

“Lemme stash these in the dishwasher and I’ll be right up.”

“You got it.” Rosie headed into the restaurant. She wasn’t surprised to see the bar empty now, in the middle of the afternoon. Out in the dining area, only three tables had customers.

“The lull before the dinner rush,” Brenda said as she joined Rosie, leaning her elbows on the bar. “Gonna wear your boots tomorrow?”

“You know it. That’s standard fair footwear.” Rosie grinned. “The rest?” She shrugged. “I’ll wing it.”

“I bet he’ll like whatever you pick,” Brenda murmured. “But ya know, feel free to show off those awesome boobs.”

“Brenda!” Rosie coughed. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Brenda pasted on a faux-innocent face. “I remember that night he came in with the guys. He’s your date and he’s smokin’ hot. Tall, dark, handsome, and mysterious.”

“And, apparently, a prince.”

“Hey, that was the best explanation I could come up with. Those two relate to anything involving a crown.” Brenda gave a wave as she walked to the back. “On that note, let’s see how much of my house is covered in glitter after the royal events of the day.”

“Have fun,” Rosie called.

Two other servers, Tina and Shelley, worked the dinnertime rush as Rosie manned the bar. They worked seamlessly together and thankfully, no jerk customers showed up. Rosie was in the middle of filling draft pitchers for the local men’s softball team when a shadow fell across her light.

Cruz.

“Hey!” she exclaimed. She may have sounded as giddy as Brenda’s daughters, but the bar was loud and she really didn’t care. “Nice to see you.”

He grinned down at her. “Sorry I couldn’t make it in earlier.”

“That’s fine. You guys finally call it a week?”

“We’re working four hours tomorrow morning. But then—I’m done.”

“Good. Don’t leave yourself too tired to walk around the livestock pens.” She winked at him.

“Never.” To her surprise and total moment of wanting to melt, he winked back. Big, tattooed, muscle-bound Cruz winked in a way that was cute, sexy, and froze her in place.

She stood there like an idiot for three seconds before she realized her hand was wet. “Oh shoot.” She shut off the tap and set her pitchers on the bar. “Whoops.” Grabbing a towel, she snuck a glance at Cruz.

Mirth flickered in his eyes. “Didn’t mean to get you all riled up,” he said softly.

“Mm-hmm.” She dried them swiftly and arched a brow. “Be right back.”

She delivered the pitchers to the men, all of whom she knew. She didn’t think twice about it, it was just the way Sundown was. They bantered with each other, including her. “When you gonna come and watch us play, Rosie?” “You gotta watch us beat the snot out of Murphysboro.” “You shoulda seen the play Steve made.” She stood and joked with them for a minute before returning to the bar, where Cruz had taken a seat.

“I’m beginning to think you know this whole town,” he said.

“I do,” she said proudly. “Did you want something to drink?”

“I just wanted to say ‘hi.’ I see you’re pretty busy.” He scanned the other men at the bar. “Customers cool tonight?”

“Yep, all good.” She leaned a hip on the worn wood.

“Good. So tomorrow? What time should I pick you up?”

“Hmm, seven. We can catch the last demolition derby of the day—that’s the one where they really let loose.”

He chuckled. “More crashing than during the day, huh?”

“Yep. They got nothing left to lose. If those cars are still moving, they’re hitting something. And don’t eat dinner. There is so much food there.”

He nodded. “Got it.”

“Oh—wear a cowboy hat and boots and you’ll fit right in.” She widened her eyes for emphasis, holding in a smile. If he actually had those, she might just die.

“Yeah?” His eyes twinkled.

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’ll have to check my closet.”

She burst out laughing. “I’m teasing. But I may wear mine. Just sayin’.”

“Noted.” He tilted his head, focused on a point somewhere beyond her face… “Come here.”

She leaned forward as he reached up and toward the crown of her head. She had no idea what he was doing, but it left her curious and tingly and hot. Above the noise of the bar, she heard a tiny snap.

“This a new thing?” he brought his hand forward

Held lightly between his fingers was a bright red barrette. She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my Lord. Has that been in here the whole afternoon?” She giggled and met his eyes. “I watched Brenda’s girls today. Dress up is required at their house.”

“I see. And they left you a present.”

She took it, her fingers brushing his rough ones. Maybe more on purpose than she needed to. “Yep. Are there any more in there?” She shook out her hair.

“Turn around.” His voice held a command and it made her breath hitch, even though she’d asked the question. Without hesitating, she complied. His answer rumbled over her skin. “Nope, that’s it.”

“Well thank you.” She rotated to face him again. “You’re the only one who said anything. I left their house at two o’clock today. So I’ve had an unknown accessory for hours. Great.”

“It works for you.” He stood. “See you tomorrow night.”

“Sounds good. Night.”

She watched him walk out, all long legs and broad shoulders. She could still feel his touch on her hair. Maybe she was overthinking this...but god. He made her warm inside, made her heart race, and no one had done that for a long time. And the next evening, he’d be her date. She didn’t have to share him, had no responsibilities. Her body heated in anticipation and she forced it down. She’d had her Cruz fix for tonight. It would have to tide her over until tomorrow.

Chapter 10

Cruz angled his truck down the two lane rural road, searching for the turnoff that Rosie had said looked like it went nowhere but was actually her driveway. She was technically outside of the main town area, in one of those houses that sat in the middle of fields of crops he had yet to identify without his phone.

She had texted directions to her house earlier in the day, and Cruz silently thanked the nation’s search engines and online navigation programs that Sundown was on GPS. Rosie had clued him in with a few landmarks as well.

Spotting a group of three towering trees, then a mailbox with bluebirds on it, he checked off his mental list and turned. The road appeared to lead straight into a field, but after a couple hundred yards, it made a ninety-degree turn to the left. Another couple hundred yards ahead was a little brick house.

Two birds with long tails swooped overhead. None like he had ever seen before, and he added it to the bucket list of things to learn about country life. Each yard closer to Rosie’s house brought more of it into focus: the porch that she made into two syllables. The millwork along the upper edges that made it look feminine like her. And the wooden swing, big enough for two, with red pillows at each end. A wind chime swung in the barely-there breeze, not even enough to make it ring.

Clusters of brightly colored flowers sectioned off the corners of the front yard. The whole scene was straight out of a movie. He parked his truck and got out, walking across the neat lawn. Did she mow it herself? What about when something in the house broke? Who did she call?

He’d never wondered how a woman took care of herself or got things done before. Rosie seemed independent. And hell, the whole town knew her. She probably didn’t have to look far for help.

Then again…she sure as hell needed it the night he met her.

His fist clenched but he pushed the negative thoughts out of his head. Other than meeting her, that night didn’t deserve any space in his head.

Tonight was all about her. He wasn’t sure what to expect from a county fair, but he wanted time alone with her. Selfish? Maybe, but she sure didn’t seem to mind—

The front door of the house swung open and Rosie stepped out.

Holy fucking hell.

Cruz hadn’t made it up the three steps yet, so he was level with her boots.

Cowboy boots.

He never in a million years would have thought cowboy—cowgirl—boots could be hot. But words failed him as he took in the brown leather that ended below her knees, and her bare toned legs that were on display. More denim shorts, these ones with ripped edges. Strands of pale blue cotton fiber brushed against her thighs, making him think about doing the same with his fingers. Or mouth… She wore a black and white checked shirt tied at her waist. It was unbuttoned, revealing a black tank top beneath. Her hair swung long and loose, and in her hands was a light brown cowboy hat.

She set it on her head and raised a brow. “Too much? I wasn’t sure about the hat.”

Cruz could only stare, because that damn hat short-circuited any coherent thoughts. All he could process was unbidden images of her in that hat—and nothing else. Shit and fuck, he needed to cool it. He cleared his throat. “Ah…”

“Yeah, thought so.” She took it off and shrugged. “Another time.”

“Sure,” he coughed. Another time might kill him.

“Lemme just set this inside and we can go.” She ducked back through the doorway.

That perfect tight ass. That sexy honey hair. Tonight would require his biggest effort ever to keep his hands to himself.

A porch light flicked on. She emerged and locked the door behind her. “So you found me okay.”

“Yeah. Three trees and the mailbox. This is a hell of a driveway.”

“It’s a quarter mile.” She descended the steps to stand in front of him. “Guessing you don’t see that back home?”

He shook his head, wanting to absorb every nuance of her porcelain skin, her tumbled hair, the fruity fragrance that curled into his nose. That tank top she wore was just low enough to show off the tops of her breasts. Jesus.

“Cruz,” she said softly. Sweetly and with a hint of a drawl.

Shit. “Sorry.” He met her eyes, not actually sorry to be caught checking out her tits. But the expression on her face was more amused than anything else. “Right. The driveway. What do you do when it snows?”

She glanced at the strip of road. “Enough of the townsfolk hook plows to their trucks in the winter—someone always ends up over here to plow me out. Though, main roads first, so it can take a while.”

“So you really are snowbound.” He didn’t know if that was good or bad. If she couldn’t get out, then no one could get in either.

“We really don’t get as much snow down here as upstate, so it’s not bad.” She stuck a hand in a front pocket. “But snow is a distant thing right now. Tonight is fair night!”

Her enthusiasm was contagious. “Let’s go.” He walked to the truck and opened the passenger door for her. She hopped in, and he made the effort to look at her boots and not her ass. “Nice boots.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. “Didn’t wear yours, I see.” A teasing smirk that he wanted to kiss right off her lips.

“Nope. I have to fess up and tell you that I don’t have any.”

She sucked in a breath. “Well, we’ll have to fix that right away. Can’t have no boots.” Her tone still taunted. Still so damn sexy.

“You can help me with that. Pick some out.” He rounded the front and climbed in. He cranked the engine to life and steered the truck back down her driveway. The radio, hovering at a low volume, played a country station. “I noticed all the radio stations are country or talk.”

“Yep.” She paused to listen, and turned up the volume a little. “Oh, it’s Dierks Bentley. I like this song.”

“Can’t say I’ve heard it.”

“You’re gonna hear it all the time now. Unless you hook up your phone and stream whatever you want. Oh, and tonight? There’ll be live country music. Some folks really get into the dancing. Two step, line dance, even square dancing.”

“You serious?”

“I kid you not. Costumes and all.”

“I didn’t know people really did that. I thought square dancing was something they made us do in elementary school PE to torture us.”

She laughed, a merry sound that filled the car and made him want to bottle it up and keep it for the times she tried to hide her shadows. “No, the do-si-does and allemande-lefts are real down here.”

Twenty minutes later their truck joined a long line of cars snaking through a grassy field. Fair workers with yellow vests and orange flashlights directed the cars to park in makeshift rows, creating one line and then another.

They exited the car and followed the crowds to the hustle and bustle of the fair. Low, flat-roofed buildings sat in groups, while dozens of white-topped tents were scattered all around.

“Just FYI, you may want to watch your step,” Rosie said. “I’m not sure what was in this field last week.”

“Good to know,” Cruz murmured, just in time to hear a child ahead of them shriek about finding cow poop.

He looked at Rosie and they both laughed. “Country life.” She shrugged.

After they got to the entrance and Cruz bought tickets, Rosie studied the map they’d been given. “Here’s the derby.” She pointed to a spot at the far end. “Let’s go.”

They threaded their way through throngs of people. Families, teens, and senior citizens meandered with food, drinks, or maps in hand. The aroma of grilled meat enticed his nose, followed by the scent of sugary treats as the wind shifted. “This is the most people I’ve seen in one place since I moved here,” he remarked.

“I told you, the fair is the place to be this weekend. Oh—there’s the goat pen. We gotta come back this way after the show. My old baby sitter has a couple goats in there. I need to see if she won any prizes.”

He nodded. Anything and everything about Redemption County was different, and he was over being surprised. He could go along with it—prize goats, giant vegetables, butter sculptures, anything they might have here, just to hang with Rosie.

The demolition derby took place in a dirt-filled arena with bleachers on one side. Cruz and Rosie climbed the worn wooden steps and found a spot in the middle. Two women and six kids occupied the spaces on Cruz’s right side. They smiled and scooted to make more room, giving the short glances you give to strangers that you’re going to sit next to for a specified amount of time. All except one.

A little girl—Cruz had no idea how to estimate kids’ ages—with purple all around her mouth, focused on him with big eyes.

Rosie noticed and gave the child a small wave. “Hello.”

The girl peered at Rosie but then turned back to Cruz. “Did you drawed on yourself?” she asked in a voice that was somewhere in between awe and you’re-getting-in-trouble.

Rosie stifled a snort.

“Ah…” Cruz frowned. Christ, the kid had to be three feet tall. And she stared at him like a courtroom judge who expected an honest answer immediately. “No. One of my friends did.”

“You gots to wash it off,” she said. “You’re ‘posed to use soap but we don’t have soap. Here.” She grabbed a grubby napkin from on top of a paper plate at her feet and proceeded to rub it along Cruz’s arm.

“McKenzie! Stop that!” the woman next to her grabbed her hand and pulled it away from Cruz. “I am so sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Cruz said.

“McKenzie, we do not take dirty napkins and wipe off people’s arms. Understand?”

“But he gots to wash it. He needs soap. I think he needs a bath,” McKenzie said with utter seriousness.

Rosie covered her mouth, but a giggle slipped through. Cruz shot her a wry grin before looking back at the woman.

“Oh my goodness! Child—stop. No more talk about baths and washing until we get home and you are getting a bath. You got grape slushy all over your face. You’re a mess.” The woman turned to Cruz and Rosie, cheeks crimson. “I am so, so sorry. She has no filter.”

“No, really, it’s fine,” Cruz assured her. “She’s got a point--normally you don’t draw on yourself.”

“True but—” She shook her head. “Thank you for understanding. It’s been a long day.”

“No worries.” He leaned forward, letting his hands dangle between his knees. He angled his head toward Rosie, who was shaking in silent laughter. “Yuck it up.”

“Cruz, that was the funniest thing I’ve heard all week,” she whispered, wiping her eyes.

“Glad to be the entertainment.” He studied the ring as an engine roared through the early night air, then a second. The space was filled with all kinds of beater cars. Some looked like they’d seen action earlier in the day.

A voice came on the loudspeaker, announcing the start of the derby, and for the next twenty minutes ten cars slammed and crashed to the crowd’s delight. The watchers cheered each driver as he—or she, in one case—wrecked beyond repair and exited their car. When it got down to two cars, the voice on the speaker rattled off their names and whooped the crowd into cheering for one or the other.

It was all in good fun. But unbidden, decade old memories popped into his brain. His own defensive, evasive driving on Chicago’s dark streets. Stolen vehicles brought to a warehouse along the sanitation canal and delivered to the senior members of a gang who were owed a favor by the men Cruz wanted to join. Semi-automatic weapons trained on him as he delivered the goods alone. He was fifteen, and on the path that would lead him to prison.

The crowd around him erupted in applause, yanking him back to the present. Rosie stood up and clapped. “That was crazy! Look at that old truck—it’s smoking!”

He got to his feet and scanned the arena. Cars had stopped anywhere they pleased. Fenders lay on the dirt, along with one tire. “That was cool.” It sounded lame, but he didn’t want to tell Rosie he’d spaced out, lost in his shitty past.

“Whew! Yes, awesome!” The side aisles were jammed with people. She started to climb down the bleachers in front of them. “I need some food, and that barbeque has been smelling delicious ever since we parked. I—”

One of her low-heeled boots slipped off the edge of a bleacher and she wobbled. Without thinking he reached for her with both hands, catching her around the waist. “Whoa.”

A gasp left her lips as she clutched his biceps. Wide blue eyes stared up into his and breaths whooshed through her parted lips. Breaths that were part startled and part lost, as if she didn’t have any idea how she ended up holding on to him.

She was warm under his hands. Her fingers, light as birds wings, flexed into his muscles. Seconds ticked by and he had to fight off the feeling of wishing like hell they were alone. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, not moving. “Stupid boots.”

“I like them.” His blood roared to close the space between them and taste her plump lips. But they were on bleachers with people maneuvering all around them. “Let’s get you over to the side.”

“Okay.” She released her hold on his arms, only to surprise him by grabbing his hand.

Her hand was tiny and perfect in his as they made their way to the edge of the seats and down steps that were made for descent, unlike the precarious stands. Only at the bottom did she squeeze his fingers. “Thanks. I’m okay now. I think I can walk without tripping.”

“Good.” He didn’t let go of her. “Next stop—food?”

She smiled up at him. “Yep.”

Minutes later they found a spot at a table in what was designated as the dining area. A few dozen picnic tables were arranged under a large tent. Strings of white lights twinkled along the fabric high above. One area was sectioned off into a beer garden, while the rest was filled with families. Every kid had either an ice cream cone or a cloud of cotton candy, or was clamoring for one.

Rosie and Cruz dug into pulled pork sandwiches and cheesy French fries. “This is probably a thousand calories, but it’s sooo good,” Rosie said in between bites.

“Hey, the fair only happens once a year. You’re entitled.”

“Next we need to get elephant ear—”

“Rosie Marlow, is that you?” a shrill voice carried across the tent.

Rosie turned to the sound, a look of surprise, mixed with dismay on her face. She quickly adjusted it to a smile that passed for genuine. “Charmaine! How are you?” She dragged out the last word long enough to make it a separate sentence, and stood to greet the newcomer.

Charmaine had big brown teased hair and a tight lime green top on. Loads of makeup covered her face, which was more than likely attractive under all that color. “Rosie. Y’all haven’t come by for custard in ages.”

“I know. I’m sorry. The Grille is so busy and, gosh, I’ve lost track of how long it’s been.” Rosie tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ll come by soon, I promise.”

Charmaine had stopped paying attention to Rosie at the word Grille, and focused heavily mascaraed eyes on Cruz. “And who is this?”

Cruz stood and extended a hand. “Cruz Zaffino. Nice to meet you.”

“Cruz just moved to Sundown,” Rosie explained.

Charmaine held his hand a second longer than he thought she needed to. “Zaffino. My, that sounds erotic. I mean—” She covered her red-painted mouth and giggled. “Exotic. Where are you from? Italy?”

“Chicago, actually.”

Her eyes lit up like she’d discovered gold. “Oh, a big city man! How exciting that you joined our little town!”

He nodded. “Seems like the ideal place to live.”

“It is ideal, let me tell you. You made a good choice.” Her eyes roamed his tattoos before swinging back to Rosie. “Well, I’ll let you two keep on with your supper. I just had to say hello as soon as I saw you. Take care now.” She grabbed Rosie for a hug, then sashayed off to one of the food booths.

Rosie sat down and so did Cruz. She had the oddest fake smile plastered on her face. “Oh my god, that woman is the biggest gossip in Redemption County.”

“Okay,” he said, frowning. “Guess they’re everywhere, right? What’s with the expression?” He drew a circle in the air with one finger.

“I’m keeping a smile on because ten to one she’s still watching us. Believe me, I want nothing more than to roll my eyes right now.”

He chuckled. “Wow. That bad?”

“Yes.” She took a bite of her sandwich. “She’s probably put a hundred pictures on her social media already, of every part of this fair. And everyone she talked to.”

“Got nothing better to do?”

“Nope, she doesn’t.” Rosie sighed. “She’s not a bad person. She just literally can’t keep anything to herself.”

Cruz munched on a fry dripping with cheese and was glad Rosie knew his past. This Charmaine might be about to dig up more than she bargained for about him.

They finished their sandwiches and started their search for the elephant ear booth. “We should just look for people with powdered sugar all over themselves,” Rosie joked. “Those things are so messy.”

And shit, there she went again. Or maybe his sex drive was more out of control than he realized. Her innocent words sparked an image of her, naked, covered in powdered sugar.

And maybe with her hat.

He gritted his teeth and racked his brain for the most unsexy topic he could think of. Changing the oil in his truck. Yep, that would do.

They found the booth a minute later and he bought them each one of the doughy treats. Elephant ear in hand, Rosie nibbled at it carefully. Still, each bite sent powdered sugar flying in all directions. She peeked up at him with a grin. A dusting of white streaked her chin, and he couldn’t resist. He reached toward her.

“You gots to wash this off,” he mimicked the child from earlier, gently brushing the sugar from her skin.

Her eyes dropped to his thumb and her lips parted. A hundred inappropriate ideas about her mouth tumbled through his head. But hell, they were at a family-friendly event and he had barely managed to keep his thoughts under control. Those boots, those shorts, her soft brushes against him as they walked—

Sudden trepidation fired up his spine as his focus was hijacked by deep-set instincts. Behind Rosie, a woman with a fussing toddler struggled with toys, two bags, and a stroller. The child’s shrieks of protest pierced the air, carrying over the woman’s attempts to soothe. Both her bags gaped wide open, slung over her shoulder as she leaned down to try to buckle the child into the stroller. Another slightly older child twirled nearby, chomping on cotton candy, inching away from them toward a stray balloon that had lost half its air and rolled along the ground. “Will! Get back here. Stand right here so I can see you. Will!”

The smaller kiddo kicked and screamed. The whole scene would have been typical—except for the mayday bellowing in his mind. The woman was a target.

A shaggy haired man, clad in black from head to toe, slipped in close behind the woman. Silent and swift. She didn’t seem aware of him as his hand dipped into her bag and emerged with her wallet. In a flash, he was speed walking down the midway.

Oh, hell no.

Cruz charged after the guy. He caught up to him and clamped a hand on his neck, pressing into the skin on the sides. “You’re gonna give that back, asshole.”

“What the fuck?” The man—only looked to be in his early twenties—tried to shrug off Cruz.

But Cruz only tightened his grip. “You deaf?”

“Ow, fuck. Who the fuck are you?”

Cruz steered him to the side of a building, away from the crowd. “Someone you’re gonna wish you never saw. Drop the wallet.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rosie following them.

“Don’t fuck with me man. Stay out of it.” The guy struggled.

Cruz shifted his hand to exert more pressure on the carotid artery. “Ten seconds til you pass out. Drop it or I’ll take it and leave you here.”

The guy’s hands clutched at Cruz’s arm. He blinked rapidly. “It’s just a …wallet…Not like I touched her or nothing…”

“Five seconds,” Cruz growled.

Panting, the man retrieved it from his baggy pants pocket and dropped it at Cruz’s feet.

Cruz let go, and the man took off like a shot into the dark area behind all the tents and buildings.

He picked the wallet up and opened it. A quick glance inside showed cash and credit cards still there, thank fuck.

“Cruz?” Rosie’s voice was tentative behind him.

He blew out a breath and turned to her. “We need to return this before that woman goes home.”

“Cruz!” Rosie stood in front of him. “What just happened? How did you—”

“This first.” He thrust the wallet into her hands. “You do the talking. Tell her it fell out of her bag. Let’s go.”

Chapter 11

Rosie clutched the unfamiliar woman’s wallet and followed Cruz. What the hell just happened?

One minute Cruz was looking sexy as hell, brushing powdered sugar off her chin, almost acting like he wanted to kiss her, and the next, he’d disappeared and cornered a mugger. It all happened so fast, her head was spinning.

She hurried to keep pace with his long strides as he led them back to the spot where the woman with the crying child had been. Rosie hadn’t even noticed her at first—crying kids and harried parents were everywhere at the fair.

“Do you see her?” Cruz said gruffly.

“Um, not yet…” Rosie scanned the crowd. Had the woman been wearing blue or white? Hair in a ponytail or loose?

“Shit.” Cruz said through clenched teeth. “She had two kids. Two bags…”

“We can check the parking lot.” Rosie said. “Bet it’ll take her awhile to load the kids in and get the stroller put away.”

“Good idea.” He still hadn’t looked at her. He’d never stopped searching the throng.

A wail carried through the air, accompanied by the slam of plastic. “Now we’re going home. No more stops.” Emerging from the porta-potty area was the woman, one fussing child in the stroller and one walking beside.

“There she is. Go,” Cruz ordered.

Rosie didn’t know what to make of this angry tough version of Cruz, but she didn’t stop to dwell on it. She hurried to the woman, wallet extended. “Um, miss? This um, fell out of your bag.”

The woman’s jaw dropped. “What? It did?” She grabbed a huge blue bag, which was still wide open, and peered inside. Her fingers rummaged frantically and she gaped at Rosie. “It did fall out. Oh my god. Thank you so much! I didn’t even realize…” She took the wallet and held it to her chest. “Thank you. This means so much to me, you don’t even know how much.”

“Your welcome. We’re happy to help.” Rosie smiled, glad to return the wallet but with her brain still whirling over how it had happened. “Get home safe.”

“Thank you.” She glanced at Cruz, who had slowly approached to stand at Rosie’s side. “Okay, we’re off. Come on, Will.”

The child half-skipped, half-jumped along next to her. Rosie watched them make their way toward the parking lot until she couldn’t see them anymore. She turned to Cruz. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about we start by going home?” His tone was softer than it had been a minute ago, but still resolute.

“Okay.” They walked in silence to the truck, past tired families and giddy teens. Rosie couldn’t help but peek at every figure who walked around the edges of groups, wondering how many pickpockets were here and how many were successful. She never thought about things like that. Maybe she should. But the fair had always been a bright shining spot in the annual events of her life. Logically, she knew that stuff got stolen in every town in the country.

But tonight hit too close. This was her home county, her fair.

They reached Cruz’s truck and he opened the door for her like before. She hopped in and he stalked around to his side and got in. She studied his profile as he started the engine. Even if he wasn’t a walking mountain of drop-dead hotness, something about him was so strong and honorable, she just wanted to melt. Yet a brooding anger that she didn’t understand darkened his mood. Wasn’t he glad that he’d just averted a crime?

He maneuvered them onto the main highway, still quiet, and drove.

Did he need time to decompress? When they were halfway home, Rosie couldn’t stand it any longer. “Are you okay?”

“That’s a loaded question, Rosie.” He kept his eyes on the road.

“Why?” she pushed.

“Because the answer is no. And if the answer is no, you’re gonna want to know why.”

“True.” Well, that wasn’t what she expected. He pegged her thoughts exactly. Was she that obvious, or did everyone react this way to whatever it was with him? “Will you tell me?”

For a few minutes he didn’t answer. She waited, willing him to let her in.

“It’s not pretty,” he finally muttered.

“I don’t need pretty. I want to understand what’s going on with you.”

They hurtled through the pitch black moonless night, which matched his apparent mood. How quickly everything had changed on their happy, flirty date. “You won’t like it.”

“Neither of us knows that until you tell me,” she said softly. And a creeping hypocrisy slithered up her spine as her own words echoed in the car. Her own secrets she held so closely, for the same reason. People wouldn’t like it—or her--if they knew the truth. Of that, she was certain. She sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m prying and pushing. It’s not really any of my business.”

“Technically, no.” He glanced at her, the tiniest of smiles on his sexy mouth. “But I did say you could ask me anything.”

“And you also said there were things that are hard to talk about,” she added.

They reached Sundown and its two street lights, one at each end of town. They passed Marvin’s gas station and Cruz turned toward her place, not needing a reminder. She didn’t know why that made her happy—the town was postage-stamp small, so it really wasn’t that hard. But it showed that he paid attention. Of course he pays attention. He caught a damn pickpocket tonight.

They cruised down her driveway, the headlights illuminating the crops on either side. Reaching her house, he threw the car in park and they both got out.

She stood by the truck, not ready for this night to end. “You stopped that guy. You did an amazing thing tonight.”

He cast a glance to the sky. “Not really. I did what anyone would’ve done.”

“Most people wouldn’t even have seen it,” she said. “It happened so fast. One minute you were with me and then next gone, and…and you had that guy pinned.”

“Guess I just happened to look in the right place at the right time.” He looked to the side, to the ground, anywhere but at her.

“You saved that woman time, money, maybe her identity—that’s not just happenstance. You acted when others would’ve been clueless or worse, not gotten involved. Cruz.” She reached for his hand. “You acted like a her—”

“Don’t.” His voice was gritted through clenched teeth. “Don’t use that word.”

“Why not? The other night, as well. With those three guys? You…you saved me.”

“I’m as far from a hero as you can get, Rosie.” He glared as if daring her to argue.

Darn it, she was more than up for a fight. He’d been nothing but amazing since he’d lived here. “Why? You stepped in twice now and helped—“

“I’m not a good man. Never was. Maybe I misled you.” He paced to the rear of the truck and leaned his arms on the bed.

“I don’t believe that. You didn’t do the crime you were accused of.”

“No, I didn’t. But I was ready to. Do you understand? I was prepared to kill, just to join up with more killers.” He ground out the words with palpable disgust.

She swallowed hard. “That’s not who you are now.”

“Doesn’t matter. One man lied, and the cops and the mayor wanted to solve the case.” He slowly closed his hands into fists. “You wanna know why it was so goddamn easy for them to pin it on me?”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Yes. Help me understand.”

“I have a juvenile record. I started picking pockets on the subway when I was eleven, stealing from stores when I was twelve. I stole my first car at fifteen. I idolized the leaders of the Cobras. Couldn’t wait to join and move up to dealing drugs and start getting rich. The cops knew all that. The city’s lawyers tried to get my record unsealed, because I was eighteen at the time of trial. They weren’t successful, but it didn’t matter.”

Her heart ached for the boy he’d been and a hundred questions raced through her mind. How had he turned to that?

“And tonight?” He bit out the words and paced back to stand in front of her. “I saw that woman. She was a prime target. Distracted, tired. Bag open behind her. I recognized the opportunity.” He jabbed a finger toward his chest. “I recognized it because I used to live that life. That was me, Rosie. All that knowledge of how to pull off that shit? It’s all still here. Just like those guys who harassed you. I knew they saw an opportunity. I knew you had less waitresses on staff. That same ugliness that was in them, that made them do what they did? It’s inside me too.”

The air whooshed out of her lungs. Unbidden tears sprang to her eyes at the painful undercurrent in his words. “I don’t believe that,” she whispered, fighting to keep her voice from cracking. “Everything you’ve done since you got here has been good. Maybe you saw the same opportunity, but you didn’t act on it. You did the opposite.”

“I can’t change who I am.” His tone softened ever so slightly as a lone tear slipped down her cheek. “That criminal will always be inside me.”

She swiped at the annoying tear. “You may not be able to change the past, but you don’t have to live in it.” She ignored the voice screaming in her mind to listen to herself. This moment was about Cruz. “You said it yourself, you moved here for a fresh start.”

“Maybe that was a bullshit idea.”

“It was not.” Determination crept into her voice. “You came out of a bad situation that wasn’t your fault. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

He shook his head. “I’ve already had a second chance. And a third, and a fourth. Doesn’t seem to matter.”

“It does matter. You’re a good man.”

“Stop saying that,” he growled, stepping closer.

“No.” She stood as tall as she could, and she still had to tilt her head up to meet his fiery eyes. “I refuse. You are a good man, an honorable one. Your actions show me that more than any words out of your stubborn mouth. I dare you to try and tell me you’re not. I will argue until I can’t talk anymore, and then I’ll start texting it to you and the whole damn world. Don’t you dare test me—”

A squeak left her lips as he grabbed her shoulders and closed the small distance between them. His mouth covered hers with a dizzying urgency. His kiss was hungry and wild, stealing her breath. Possessive.

Oh. Wow.

He backed her up against the side of the truck and dropped one hand to her hip. The other threaded into her hair as his warm lips shaped hers. Her heart kick-started in her chest as the need for more ignited, firing out to every nerve ending in her body. She skimmed her hands up his thick biceps and broad shoulders, something she’d been dying to do all week.

He wasn’t gentle and that aroused her more than she ever could have anticipated. She moaned into his mouth, parting her lips for his exploration. His tongue was so wicked, the way it stroked along hers was a sexy, caressing motion that made her imagine him doing the same between her legs.

And maybe that thought meant she was moving way too fast, but he pressed flush against her and she was ready to explode from the sensation of his tall muscular body aligned with hers. His hard length ground into her lower belly, nearly making her lose her mind.

He wasn’t just being nice, or polite, or gentlemanly any of the times they had hung out. He wanted her.

He tore his mouth from hers and began a devastating path along her neck from the base of her throat up to her ear. He took her lobe between his teeth. “Rosie. Fuck, woman.” His voice was gritty and strained and vibrated across her skin like a command.

She couldn’t form words, could only pant with arousal more intense than anything she had ever felt before. Heaviness settled in her belly and she fought to breathe. She knotted her fingers in his thick hair and tugged him back to her mouth.

He let her take over the kiss, letting her play and explore. But when his hand left her hip to wander up, caressing over each of her ribs, she lost all sense of what she was doing. Her breasts were so sensitive. If he touched her there, if those sexy rough fingers played with her nipples, she would die. She’d orgasm right here, in her front yard, up against his truck.

A delicious ache settled low in her abdomen and she knew she was done for. Her body wanted relief and was on a mission to get it. She rocked her hips against his, seeking his denim-covered erection.

His hand stopped just below her breast. Big and warm. She could imagine what he’d feel like touching her, how he’d caress and flick her nipples into stiff, aching points—

He pulled away only to rest his forehead on hers. “Rosie,” he panted. “God damn. We better stop.”

She made a sound that was somewhere between a question and a protest.

“I don’t have a condom.” A strained sigh escaped him. “Do you?”

She shook her head. It had been so long since she’d had sex, anything she may have had was long expired. “You’re right. We should…stop.” And it was going to kill her. She still couldn’t breathe properly.

He dropped his hands back to her hips and a devilish grin played across his lips. “Kinda been wanting to do this ever since you walked out that door with that damn hat on.”

She giggled through a breath that finally filled her lungs. “Yeah? You like my hat, huh?”

“That hat should come with a hard-on-inducing warning.”

Now she laughed outright, keeping her hands linked loosely behind his neck. “You’re funny.”

“Thanks for showing me the fair.” He tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear.

“My pleasure.”

“And thanks for arguing with me.”

How many guys thank a girl for arguing? Cruz was full of surprises. She traced a finger along his stubble-roughened jaw. “Thanks for letting me in. I don’t sit quiet when things aren’t right. And you…” She fought the urge to trace his full lower lip, knowing that would bring them back to kissing. “You were wrong.”

He made a scoffing sound. “Oh, I was?”

“Yep. Don’t argue with a country girl.” She winked.

“Duly noted.” He slid an arm around her shoulders and walked her toward her door. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” They climbed the three steps to her door and she dug in her pocket for her keys. She unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Cruz grabbed her hand and pulled her close enough to kiss her cheek. “Sleep well. See you soon.”

“You, too. Night.” She ducked inside and closed the door. Peering through the front window, she watched the red taillights fade into the distance as he drove away.

Not how she thought this night would go, in more ways than one. Her world had shifted, all because of this handsome, damaged man. His ability to keep moving forward and overcome his past awed her—even if he said he hadn’t changed.

If only she could have an ounce of that strength.

Chapter 12

Cruz whistled as he worked under his truck. Turned out, the thing was due for an oil change after all. Good thing he’d thought of it last night in his futile efforts to stop mentally undressing Rosie.

He carefully removed the used oil filter and slid the pan in place to catch all the grubby, sediment-filled remains from the reservoir. God, that woman. He’d been seconds from fucking her up against his truck. And judging from her breathy moans and roaming hands, she was thinking along the same lines.

Soon. Maybe? He didn’t want to be an ass. But she ignited a crazy need to touch, to protect, to make her his. Top that off with her sass and sweetness, and he didn’t think he could stay away.

The rumble of an engine pulling into the driveway behind him pulled him from his thoughts. Huh. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, and this vehicle sounded way more powerful than Rosie’s little Ford. He scooted out from under his truck, eyes adjusting to the bright morning sun.

Parked in the driveway was a dark blue SUV marked Redemption County K9 Unit. Well, shit. Cruz wiped his hands on a rag, guessing the visitor’s identity.

A man got out with eyes that matched Rosie’s blue ones, only his hair was close cropped and brown. He whistled, and the biggest German shepherd Cruz had ever seen bounded out behind him.

“Zaffino?” The man wore jeans and a gray T-shirt, but had the air of someone used to giving commands and being listened to.

“That’s me.” Cruz fought an instinctual, building distrust. He’d dealt with cops for so long, none of their interactions good. And the faults lay on both sides.

“Shane Marlow.”

“Nice to meet you.” Cruz spoke the words out of habit and, for Rosie’s sake, he hoped it would be. He eyed Shane, who was as tall as Cruz and had a similar build. No paunchy belly for this cop. “What brings you out here?”

Shane pinned steely eyes on Cruz. “What brings me out here is a photo someone texted me.” He pulled his phone from a pocket, scrolled, and turned the phone around.

Cruz leaned in, holding up a hand to shield the screen from the sun’s glare. It showed a text message displaying the name Charmaine at the top. Below was a photo of Cruz and Rosie, laughing as they ate dinner last night. A text bubble read “Thought you’d want to see who Rosie is with at the fair right now. Do you know this guy?”

Cruz took a step back, noting that the dog had leaned forward at the same moment he had. Now, it settled back. He idly wondered what the dog had decided. “Wow.” He didn’t know whether to be impressed or pissed that small town rumor mills were aided by cell phones. Or should he be happy that Rosie had people looking out for her? Still, no one had been looking out for her the night he’d met her. Moreover, he couldn’t read Shane. So he waited.

“So you went to the fair.” Shane put his phone away. “One of Rosie’s favorite places.” He studied the small rental house behind Cruz. “Not sure how to say this. But she’s my only sister.”

She’s an adult too. Cruz bit his tongue.

“She can be too trusting,” Shane went on. “Sees the good in people before she’ll ever see the bad. I don’t want anything to happen to her.” His dog took that moment to park its furry butt on the driveway.

“Neither do I.” Cruz forced calm into his voice.

Shane glanced from the animal to Cruz. “She told me what you did for her, the night after she walked out of work alone. I owe you a huge thank you.”

Cruz nodded, surprised at the unexpected gratitude. “It was the least I could do. Those fuckers gave her shit the whole night.”

Shane’s fist clenched. “Goddamn it. She told me you beat them all up.”

“Well, two of them. One turned chicken shit and ran.”

He shook his head. “I should have been there.”

“She said she usually walks out with someone, but they’d gone home sick. And that this has never happened before.”

A flash of anguish colored the cop’s face, only for a second. “Told her to call me if she ever has to walk out alone again.”

Cruz thought about telling him that he told Rosie the same thing, but decided not to. The guy clearly felt some responsibility, deserved or not. “I have a younger sister too. I get it.”

“Well, that’s one thing we have in common.” Shane raised a brow. “I looked you up online.”

Shit, the man was as direct as Rosie. Cruz had to admire that. It was way better than people who played mind games or beat around the topic. “I know.”

“I read all the articles, plus I know you have a sealed juvie record that the prosecution wasn’t able to get open.” Shane set his hands on his hips. “I’ve been a cop long enough to see the difference in men who’ve done hard time. It changes you.”

Cruz’s skin flushed with anger. This guy may be Rosie’s beloved brother, but what the fuck? “Do you have a point, ‘cause I’m about ready to finish up this oil change.”

“I wanted to put an actual face with the name. And to remind you that people keep an eye out for Rosie. And, you know, like I said, to say thanks.”

Well that was the oddest mix of reasons to meet someone he’d ever heard. “All right. Nice meeting you then.”

“Likewise.” Shane uttered a gruff command in a foreign language, and the shepherd jumped back into the SUV, which the door still hung wide open. In seconds, they were backing out and disappeared down the street.

Cruz shook his head. He knew he’d stick out like a sore thumb here, at least at first. But gauging these folks wasn’t easy. Friendliness could be coated in saccharine falseness. He couldn’t tell if Shane thought he was an ass or tolerable.

But then there was Rosie. And everything was uncomplicated around her.

Cruz’s phone rang a couple hours later as he stepped out of the shower. The screen lit up with a familiar number. He wrapped a towel around his hips and answered. “Hey, Rosie.”

“Good morning.” Her sunny smile carried through the phone. “Well, I guess it’s almost noon by now. Have you had lunch?”

“Nope.” He grabbed another towel to dry his hair. “You wanna get a bite to eat?”

“Well, I’m making grilled cheese. I know it’s like, kid food, but I just had a taste for it. Want to join me?”

“Sure. And it sure as hell isn’t just kid food. Homemade grilled cheese is the best.”

“Oh, good. Come over any time.”

“You need me to bring anything?”

“Umm… no, I’ve got all the fixings.”

Christ, his mom and grandma said fixings. Every word out of her mouth endeared her more. “Okay. I’ll be there soon.” He‘d wait until he saw her to tell her about Shane’s visit.

“Okay, bye.” She ended the call.

Ten minutes later, Cruz found himself again in Rosie’s extensive driveway. The sun had stayed out and the spring weather had coaxed forth all kinds of blooms. Towering trees with big white flowers marked the edges of her yard.

He parked and strode up to her door. The main door was open, and only the screen door was closed. He knocked loudly on the frame. “Hello?”

“Come on in!” she called from somewhere within the house.

He let himself into the small foyer. Maple hardwood floors stretched beneath his feet. To his left was a tidy living room, to his right was an equally tidy dining room. He followed a hallway straight back and found himself in a kitchen that was a hodgepodge of old and new.

Cheery yellow walls reached up to a border along the ceiling with white and yellow flowers. Modern white appliances mixed with a big white sink and a huge window at the back wall. A tiny table that looked older than Rosie perched under the window. He peered closer. The glass was almost wavy at the bottom, the way really old windows were.

And at the tan-flecked laminate counter was Rosie, buttering slices of bread. “Hi there,” she said with a huge smile.

Her hair was in a ponytail, but tendrils escaped to frame her face. She wore a bright pink V neck top and tan cropped pants. She was barefoot, her tiny toenails painted cherry red.

“Hi, yourself.” He leaned against the fridge. “Nice house.”

“Thanks. It’s been in my family for a long time.” She pulled a frying pan from a lower cabinet and set it on the stove. “It belonged to my grandparents. When they passed, my parents were slow to sell it. They kinda didn’t want to, and neither did I. Then I decided I could swing the money for the property taxes. I convinced them to keep it and I moved in.”

“Lotta memories here, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. Me and Shane got into all kinds of trouble, catching frogs and snakes when we’d come here.”

He grinned at the thought of a little blond-haired pigtailed Rosie. Bet she was just as determined to catch frogs as her brother.

“How about your family? They still live in the city?” She dropped a dollop of butter in and cranked the burner.

“Yep. My grandma is in a two flat that she’s had forever. She rents out the bottom part. My mom and sister live in a newer condo.” Finally. They’d lived in enough shitty apartments over the years.

Rosie chattered on as she expertly cooked the best grilled cheese he’d ever had, filling him in on the adventures she had with Shane growing up. He couldn’t help but appreciate their closeness. Hell, he was close to his sister, Jenna, too. So close that his own experience had fueled her career choice of being a criminal defense attorney.

They had devoured most of Rosie’s sandwiches by the time she stopped to just sit quietly. And he didn’t mind. She idly pushed a potato chip around on her plate. “My gosh, I’ve talked your ear off,” she said.

“It’s all right,” he said. “Not too much to add. Been a quiet morning.”

“Yeah? What’d ya do?”

“Went for a run. Changed the oil in my truck.” He sat back in his chair. “Had a surprise visitor.”

“Really? Who was it?” She crunched her chip.

“Your brother.”

“What?” She coughed and grabbed a sip of lemonade. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“Oh my god.” She covered her mouth and coughed again. “What happened? He just …showed up?”

“Pretty much. He came in his patrol car along with one of the biggest dogs I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, that’s Denver,” she said. “His partner.”

“I gathered that, from the K9 painted on the side of the car,” Cruz said wryly. “You didn’t mention he has a killer German shepherd.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to not say it.” She scrunched her nose. “They’ve been working together so long, like any other police partners. I forget to specify Shane’s partner has four legs instead of two.”

“It turned out fine. I’m here in one piece.”

Rosie scanned his arms and chest. “Wait. What did he do?”

“The dog?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you mean? He just sat there.” Cruz frowned. “Was he supposed to bark or something?”

“He sat?” Rosie repeated, wide eyed.

“Uh…” Cruz thought back. “Yep. He sat down on the driveway.”

“Oh my god. Cruz! That’s great news!”

Cruz took in her jubilant expression with confusion. “It is?”

“Yes!” She leaned forward. “That dog has an uncanny sense of threats. And if he thought you were a threat in any way? He never, ever would have sat down. He would have remained standing, eyes on you, the whole time.”

“Really. Shit.”

“He wouldn’t have attacked, mind you, not without Shane giving a command, but he would have been ready to.”

“Glad you’re telling me this now, after the fact.” Cruz rubbed the back of his neck. Not sure how he would have reacted to a canine cop who made it clear he didn’t trust him. The human ones were bad enough.

“This is so great. Oh my gosh. I’m gonna save red meat scraps from the Grille for him for a week.” She sat back in her chair. “And believe me—that fact was not lost on Shane.” She nodded smugly. “Smartest dog ever.”

“Glad I got the dog’s approval,” he said. “Not sure about your brother’s.”

She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them. “I can’t believe he came to your house. What did he say?”

“He started off by showing me a picture on his phone, that Charmaine texted him. It was us at the fair. She said she wanted him to know who you were hanging around with.”

“Oh my god. This nosiness has got to stop.”

“Are she and Shane close?”

“No. He knows what a snoop she is.” She shook her head. “Normally I bet he wouldn’t care. But she knows anything about me would get under his skin.”

Cruz studied her, debating how much of the conversation to share. Would she be mad at her brother for coming over, or for saying she was too trusting? The last thing he wanted to do was create friction between her and anyone.

“What else did he say?” she asked.

“He said he doesn’t want anything to happen to you, and I told him neither do I.”

A tiny smile tilted her lips. “He’s so over protective. Anything else?”

“He thanked me for being there for you after work the other week.”

“Well, that’s good. At least he remembered some manners. I bet he drove up, all business like, all, ‘I’m Shane Marlow.’”

“Pretty much.”

“I’m sorry. It doesn’t sound like a good way to start the day.”

He chuckled. “Believe me, I’ve had worse.”

She winced. “I’m sorry. Of course you have. That was dumb.”

“No, it wasn’t. And you know what, I get where he’s coming from. I feel that way about my sister.”

“You’re not living in her town, though.”

“No.” He looked outside to a flock of sparrows flitting from one tree to another. “She did fine without me for ten damn years. She told me she loves me, but I don’t have to hover.”

Rosie laughed. “An honest sister.”

“Do they come any other way?” he grinned.

Her smile morphed from genuine to strained in a heartbeat. “Um…nope,” she said in the flattest tone he’d ever heard her use.

He studied her, and it was like watching her sunny nature deflate. He waited a beat before pushing to see what the hell had just shifted. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“I may not have known you long but I can tell that’s not the case,” he said gently.

Chapter 13

“Um.” How to spin this? Rosie was such a bad liar. And the last thing she wanted to tell Cruz was that she was a big fat coward. She’d felt like shit for not telling Shane every detail of the accident, when he’d been there for her through her recovery, driving her to doctor appointments and rehab. Heck, just hanging out with her so she wasn’t bored out of her mind.

She hadn’t been honest with him, or anyone. And she knew that Cruz was the last person she wanted to be dishonest with. He’d told her a lot of his past. She didn’t deserve to be with him if she couldn’t do the same.

“It’s just, um, some sisters and brothers are close, some aren’t.” Lame, but the best she could come up with.

He cocked a brow as if he knew she wasn’t being straight with him. “You and Shane seem close.”

“We are. Always have been.” She paused, knowing she needed to expand. Maybe she could talk about Shane instead of herself.

“Shane might get mad at me for telling you this, but…” she folded her napkin into a careful square. “Well, the whole town knows. You’d probably find out anyway.” She took a breath. “Shane was in the Army. Did a tour in Iraq, then started another one…”

Cruz, bless him, just waited for her to finish.

“His team was traveling into Kirkuk. They were in two vehicles. Shane was in the second one.” She pressed her lips together. She hadn’t had to tell anyone in so long, because everyone knew…and it was hard to find the words now. The memory was there, in the back of her mind, but verbalizing it brought all her emotions zooming to the surface. A chill zipped down her spine as she made herself state the facts. “The first jeep hit an IED. All the men died. Shane and all the guys with him were thrown from their car. All had severe to critical injuries.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry.” Cruz murmured.

“Shane came back to the states and spent a month at Walter Reed. Then he came back here to Sundown and got a job at the courthouse. Later on he started working with Denver.”

“Holy shit.” Cruz shook his head.

“He hates that he couldn’t save his team,” Rosie went on. “He had a different dog then, who was trained for explosives, but they don’t check every foot of road before they drive down it.” She unfolded her napkin. “So—he was protective before. And now more so. Especially given my own car accident. He feels like he lost his friends, and almost lost me—so he may go over the top sometimes.”

Cruz stood and walked the two steps to her chair. He took her hand and pulled her up. “Come here.”

Rosie let him tug her into his embrace. She buried her face in his warm, muscular chest and just breathed. The memory of how close she’d come to losing her only sibling tore at her, like it always did. It hadn’t come to that, thank god. But she still ached for the men who’d lost their lives, most of whom she’d met via video chats with Shane, and she knew Shane ached one hundred times more.

Cruz stroked her back. She inhaled his clean scent of soap and laundry product and felt…safe. There was no mistaking, he wanted to offer comfort. This wasn’t the heated touch they’d shared last night. “That’s a hell of a lot to deal with.”

She sighed into his pec. “It was. I’m so thankful he’s okay.”

He held her, and his hand stopped at the small of her back. “Can I ask you something?” he murmured.

“Sure,” she whispered, comforted by his strength and relieved to have gotten Shane’s story out without bawling.

“What do you mean when you say he almost lost you?”

“I…” Her heart stuttered at the totally natural question. Of course, he would ask. This was the second time she’d hinted at it. For a second, she didn’t move as a new set of horrible emotions threatened to drag her under. She pulled back and reached for his hand. “Can we go the couch?”

“Sure.”

She could tell him most of it. She couldn’t bring herself to share all. Not yet. Selfishly, she wanted more time with him before she had to be honest.

She led him to the family room and pulled him down next to her on the blue microfiber couch. An identical one sat near it at a right angle with a maplewood coffee table in the center of the sitting area.

“We don’t have to talk about it if it’ll bring up bad memories.” He caressed her hand and looked at her like she was the most special creature ever created. Despite what he’d been through, he still was able to see the good in her and not suspect any ugliness. Was he that much a miracle?

Or was she that good of a liar? That made her feel even worse. She was far from special. She was thoughtless and she was going to pay the price forever.

Cruz—sexy, strong, kind Cruz—deserved to know sooner rather than later.

“Um, well, my car accident,” she began. “It was bad.”

“You mentioned that you had a long recovery,” he said.

“Yeah.” She glanced to the wall, at a decades-old painting her grandmother had done of Little Potato Creek in the fall. Vibrant colors blazed on the trees and the water rushed in realistic surges around the rocks. The painting and the creek had been there as long as she could remember. But everything was new with Cruz. “This feels like another thing that’s weird to explain. Everyone here knows it. So once all was said and done, there was no need to bring it up again.”

“Don’t know if I’ll get used to everyone knowing my business,” he murmured.

“You still get to have some secrets.” Good ones, or awful, hateful ones—that was the question.

He stared like he could see into her soul. She wanted to run and hide as much as she wanted to drown in those slate blue eyes and hear him tell her it would be okay.

That would probably never happen. But he had the right to know what the rest of the town already did.

“It was February. Snowy, icy roads. I hit a tree. I was alone in the car.” She dropped her eyes to his inked arms. “I had a concussion, a broken arm, and multiple lacerations. And a crushed pelvis.”

“Holy shit.” He tightened his hold on her fingers.

She took a fortifying breath. “The way my pelvic bones broke, they crunched inward, for lack of a better description.” She brought her hands up showing him with curled fingers what had happened to her. “Like this.”

“God, Rosie.” He captured her hands and gently kissed them.

If her heart wasn’t breaking just by saying this, it was now. His unexpected tenderness was killing her. “Cruz. You’re being way too nice.”

“Think you need it.”

Maybe she did need it, but did she deserve it? She swallowed. “Because the sharp bone edges pushed in, they cut into my organs. I had a mess of internal bleeding. They had to operate to save my life.” She raised her eyes, wondering if he would grasp what she was saying.

He waited for her.

“They had to…” This was awkward to say to any guy, let alone a hot one she just met, who was sweet and tough and wonderful. But if she didn’t force the words out, she never would. “I had to have a complete hysterectomy right then and there. Everything was damaged.”

“Jesus Christ, Rosie, I am so sorry.” He pulled her close.

“It’s not your fault.” It’s mine. “Like I said, the whole nosy town knows. I’d rather you hear it from me.”

“Still. You were what? Twenty?”

“Twenty-one.”

“And it’s all…you’re…?”

“Everything’s out.” She dropped her gaze to a fluffy piece of lint on the carpet. “I can’t have children.” Shame and guilt tore at her, forcing tears she didn’t mean to cry.

Cruz tucked her close and held her. “I’m so sorry.”

I’m sorry enough for both of us.

He stroked her hair. “You’re just trying to live your life, you were in college. Brother in the Army, serving the country. Both of you got dealt a shit hand. None of it is your fault.”

His compassion triggered a new wave of tears and misery. Because that’s where he was wrong. She couldn’t let him think she was just some unfortunate person who managed to soldier on through the hard times that just happened out of nowhere. Not when she was the one who had caused them.

She traced the foreign word on his arm, splashed with her tears. Sobrevivir. He’d survived a horrible thing done to him. He was stronger than she’d ever be.

“There’s something else you have to know,” she whispered, wondering if he’d get up and leave once she spilled the awful truth. “I don’t want to say it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. You deserve to know the rest.” She grabbed a Kleenex to wipe her eyes and straightened, wanting to see his face.

“Rosie, you can tell me anything. I’ll keep your secrets, even if no one else in this place will.”

Oh god. He was too wonderful. Three of the most damaging words in her life hung in her frontal lobe, pushing to get out, held back by a wave of regret. One, two, three. “I’d been drinking.”

Rosie watched Cruz’s face, desperate for his reaction to her confession. It hit her then that she’d never had to share this detail of her life since the accident had happened. Everyone in Sundown had known. This was new territory. Cruz was new territory, dangerous and tempting. But also honest, and deserving of the same from her.

But did he have any choice to hide his life? His story was splashed all over the papers and internet. Hers was her own quiet hell of regret.

Cruz cupped her face in his hands. “I know that wasn’t easy to say,” he murmured. “I know ‘cause I’ve had to admit stuff I did. To my mom, my sister, the cops. I know the feeling of thinking what you did makes you the worst person ever. But, Rosie.” He dropped his hands to hers. “You’re not a bad person. You made a mistake. You’re only human.”

“It was a really bad mistake,” she whispered.

“And one that many people make. You’re not alone.”

“I was so stupid, Cruz.” Her shoulders sagged. “I should have known better. I went from one party to another, and convinced everyone I was okay to drive.” She made air quotes around the last three words. “I sure as hell wasn’t.”

“That may be true. But you’re alive. Sobreviviste.”

She looked at him with eyes that threatened to tear up again. “I don’t know what that means but if it’s good, I’m sure I don’t deserve it.”

“It means ‘you survived’ and hell yes, you deserve to hear it.”

“You don’t think I’m a bad person?” It gnawed at her, because this detail led to the agonizing rest of her story.

“Rosie.” He tilted her chin with a finger. “I know bad people. I’ve gotten into trouble alongside them. I’ve fought against them, I’ve lived next to them. I hear what they say. I hear their voices, full of zero regret or emotion. So no.” He trailed his finger to her ear. “You are not a bad person. I don’t want to hear you thinking or saying anything like that.”

Her heart just might explode. Holy wow. “Thanks.” It sounded lame, but it was all she could manage in the face of his kindness.

“Besides, I’m the last person who should ever judge anyone.”

“You and me both.”

“And besides, you paid a steep price. You don’t need to sit around, feeling even worse.”

The price was bigger than anyone knows. She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for being so sweet about this.”

“I’m glad you told me.” He sifted a lock of her hair through his fingers. “You can tell me anything. I mean it.”

“Okay.” She let out a huge sigh. Even though her darkness nagged her, she had shared as much as she could. And it felt good. “That was more of a soap opera than lunch, I guess. I didn’t mean for the conversation to turn this way.”

“And I’m glad it did. I want to know all about you.”

“Not much to know,” she shrugged.

“I bet there is.”

She laughed. “You’ve heard most if it already. Born and raised here in Sundown. Not exactly the most exciting place in the world.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

“Hmm.” A rush of adrenaline let-down flowed through her. She’d done it, shared almost all of her dark past. She felt emotionally exhausted. She snuggled into his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her, like they were a regular couple.

That would be nice. It was a sweet little dream. One she’d wake up from soon enough.

Cruz rubbed her shoulder. “What else do you have going on today?”

“I work the dinner shift. Sundays are kinda fun. We have the same old couples who come in for an early supper. They want to sit in the same booths, and almost always order the same thing. They’re cute.”

“Probably all knew you when you were a baby?”

“You know it. How about you?”

“Not much. A couple of the windows at my place don’t lock—figured I’d fix them. Not a huge deal if it doesn’t happen today.”

“Can’t Mrs. Anderson fix that? Or her son? She owns that place, after all.”

“I can fix them faster. Not a big deal.”

“Sounds good.” She could imagine Cruz working on his house. Or changing his oil, or any handy man thing. He’d be good at it, and look so hot doing it. She rubbed her cheek on his cotton T-shirt and breathed deeply. He smelled so good. Strong, hardened by life and yet—still sweet. The spring warmth and her full belly lulled her, and his scent slowly wore down all her anxiety. For a short while anyway, she could spend time with him. Not forever. It was way too early to think of forever. And she wasn’t that kind of girl. Forever didn’t happen to people who were selfish.

But for now, she relaxed into his strength. She could take a greedy day to feel his strong arms around her and pretend.

“Rosie,” Cruz whispered, gently shaking her narrow shoulders. She’d fallen asleep on him in the aftermath of their heart-to-heart conversation, and he’d let her snooze. Probably needed it, if she had to be on her feet for hours tonight.

He’d gone back and forth between feeling like shit for making her talk about the hard times she’d been through, and being damn glad she let him in. Every word was obviously painful for her to speak. That had been as clear as her big blue eyes that gazed at him like he was a hero.

He was so far from that it was a joke. But her words echoed back to him. Don’t argue with a country girl.

“Rosie.” He squeezed her shoulder, tempted to kiss her blond hair.

“Mmm.” Her sigh was pure contentment, with a purring edge that made him want her to fall asleep with him again. “Hmm? Oh!” She sat up straight, blinking. “Oh no. Did I fall asleep?”

“Sure did.” He showed her his phone. “It’s three o’clock. Are you okay on time?”

“Three o’clock. Yes.” She yawned, covering her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to zonk out on you. Oh my god. This turned into like, the worst lunch date you probably ever had.”

He stretched the arm she’d been snoozing on, getting circulation back into it. “Believe it or not, I haven’t had a lot of lunch dates. So this ranks up there pretty high.”

She gave a half laugh. “I’ll take you on a better one, I promise. We’ll go have a picnic out in the country. Ever done that?”

He rubbed a hand over his jaw, pretending to think. “Picnic in the country? Ah…no.”

“Okay then. It’s settled.” She rubbed one eye and glanced at him. “I hope I didn’t snore.”

“Woman, you snored as loud as a Mack Truck.”

She sucked in a horrified breath, then delight flashed in her eyes as she took in his laugh. She smacked his arm. “You’re terrible!”

He chuckled. “You were pretty darn cute. No snoring. Slept like a baby.”

“Thank goodness.” She traced a circle on the fabric of the couch. “I should get ready for work.”

“Okay.” He stood and pulled her up into his arms. “Thanks for lunch, and thanks for telling me about you. And about Shane.”

“You’re welcome, and thanks for listening.” They walked through the house and out onto the porch. “So…I work every day this week. You?”

“Palmer said to plan on a lot of overtime. Ten-hour days minimum.”

“That OT makes for a nice paycheck, but those are long days.” She reached up to fiddle with her wind chime, whose strings had gotten tangled.

“Can I see you again next weekend? Either day, though he may have us work Saturday morning.”

“Sure, one of those should work.” She turned back to him and smiled.

“You can pick what we do. Picnic or another Sundown special.”

“I’ll think on it.” Pretty blue eyes and pouty lips tempted him and he couldn’t come up with a reason on this earth not to kiss her. He closed the small distance between them and set his hands on her waist. Not higher or lower because god help him, he may never leave if he touched her soft curves. She skimmed her hands up his chest and linked them behind his neck as he lowered his mouth to hers.

Her lips were just as soft as last night, and while the raw primal part of him wanted to push her against the wall and kiss her until she begged him to do more, the rational part of him threw down a flurry of restraint. Today had turned into more about her than he’d expected. She’d been scared to reveal what had happened, and he was a little in awe that she’d done it anyway.

It had taken courage, and he wasn’t going to let that go unrewarded.

He feathered the seam of her lips with his tongue and she parted for him with a sigh. Ah, hell. He moved one hand to settle at her lower back, spreading his fingers wide, and pressed her against him. She fit too damn perfectly nestled up to his body.

Her tongue darted into his mouth, lashing his with slow, tantalizing strokes. Her fingers ran through his hair. Blood rushed to his groin. Fuck. He could stay here all day, but that wasn’t an option.

With effort he pulled back. Her eyes, which had been closed, opened with a heated glow. “I like kissing you, Rosie-girl.” The term of endearment popped out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about it.

“I like being kissed by you, Cruz Zaffino.” She tilted her head. “Now get on outta here before I decide I want another one and you make me late for work.”

He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.” He loped down the steps and turned to give her a quick wave before getting in his truck. The scent of her hair still clung to his T-shirt from where she had fallen asleep on him. Sweet and enticing. And hell, it would have to last him a whole damn week.

Chapter 14

The week alternately flew and dragged for Cruz. The daytime hours flew, when he and his crew worked with jackhammers to bust up the road they were currently working on. Then at night, sending Rosie a quick text before he passed out, time ticked by.

Now, after clocking sixty hours, it was Saturday at noon and he was free. He texted Rosie. Done for the week. Can’t wait to see you.

Her reply came ten minutes later: I picked up an extra lunch shift today. I’m done at 2:30. I’ll call you. I have a great idea! She ended with a smiley face.

At 2:30 exactly, his phone rang. “Hi, Rosie-girl.”

“Hi! I’m about to go home. I wanted to check and see if you want to have dinner, and if you want, I can get some sandwiches from here. George makes a delicious meatball sub.”

“That sounds good. I’ll reimburse you.”

“Nope, it’s on the house. I get a meal a day, and I didn’t actually eat mine today or yesterday. I don’t want us to have too heavy of a supper because we’re going somewhere afterward.”

“Oh? Is it on an unmarked road?”

“Um…” Her cute giggle carried through the line. “There’s a point where there’s no road.”

“Oh boy. Can’t imagine what you’ve got up your sleeve.”

“I’ll tell you about it when you get here. Just plan to do a little walking up a sort of little hill.”

Cruz pulled up to Rosie’s house later to find her sitting on the swing. She stood up to greet him, and he loved the genuine smile on her face. He strode up the steps to stand in her personal space.

She gazed up at him, not backing away. “Hi.” Two tank tops hugged her chest, one layered over the other, and she had on tight cropped jeans and sandals. Her curves were covered up, but little was left to the imagination. Sexy and beautiful and happy to see him. Damn.

“Hi yourself.” He slid an arm around her bare shoulders and pulled her close for a swift kiss. She was as soft and sweet as ever, and seeing her now was the best ending to an insane week. He released her reluctantly, knowing he’d better. Kissing her was like tinder and kindling. It was getting harder to stop while he still had an ounce of self-control.

Her eyes roamed his face and arms. “You’re more tan than you were last week! Look at you.” She shook her head. “You’re one of those people who turns, like, six shades darker with one day of sun. It takes me all summer to build up even a little color.”

“You’re perfect the way you are. Plus, that’s not good for you anyway.”

“True,” she murmured. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” He patted his stomach.

“Me too. Want to eat out here?”

He glanced around the furniture on the porch. “Sure. Need me to bring out a table?”

“Nope, we can just move that end table to here,” she pointed in front of the swing. “And move that chair over, like so. I’ll get the food. You can set up.”

A few minutes later he sat in a wicker chair across from Rosie sitting on the swing. They were digging in to subs and lemonade, as birds flew around Rosie’s yard in the still evening air. He didn’t mind the lemonade, but it made him curious. Cruz idly wondered if Rosie didn’t drink at all, since her accident.

Plenty of time to ask her later. Now he was more intrigued with her plans for them. “So, getting to our destination involves a stretch of no road?”

“Yep.” She licked a bit of marinara sauce off her finger, unwittingly making Cruz stifle a groan. “You’re about to see how Sundown got its name.”

“Didn’t know there was a story behind it.”

“There sure is. We’re going to Van’s Bluff to watch the sunset. On clear nights like this, lots of Sundowners go.”

“Everyone gets together to watch the sunset?”

“You have to see it from this perspective. There’s nothing like it.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s kinda like people who live in beach towns watching the sunset. Everyone just goes to the beach on nice nights.”

“You’ve been to places like that?”

“No.” A hint of disappointment colored her voice. “But Brenda’s been to places in Michigan where they do that. Hey. What about Chicago? You’re on the lake.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, but if you stand on a Chicago beach looking out at the water, you’re facing east. You’d get the sunrise instead of the sunset.”

“Oh, duh.” She smacked her forehead.

“And if I tried to watch the sunset, there’d just be miles of buildings in the way. We’d maybe see some colors here and there, but not the sun going all the way down.”

“Then this can go on your list of new experiences.” She polished off her sub and leaned back in the swing. “Mm, that sauce is the best.”

“Agreed.” He took a long drink of lemonade. “How far away is this bluff?”

She leaned her head to one side and a smile twitched at her lips. “This is Sundown, sugar. Nothing’s far.”

He quirked a brow. “Sugar? Been called a lot of things but that’s not one of ‘em.”

“Some days everyone is ‘Sugar” to me.” She shrugged. “But I guess it might not fit you. I mean, you’re sweet and all. But I get the feeling you don’t want that to be general information.”

“Got that right. I’ll deny it up and down.”

“Okay then. Your secret’s safe with me.” She scooted carefully out from between the swing and the table. “Let’s clean up and then we’ll be off to Van’s.”

Cruz gathered the glasses and pitcher while she picked up the plates. “Why is it called Van’s?” He held the screen door open for her with one foot, then followed her inside.

“It’s named for one of Sundown’s early residents, Albert Van Der Voorst. He owned a big patch of land, including the bluff and valley below. Oh—we’ll need a blanket. Do you have one in your truck?”

He frowned. “Spare tire, flares, rope, ice scraper…no blanket.”

“No worries, I’ll grab us one.”

In minutes, the house was spic and span and growing smaller in his rearview mirror as they headed out to the main road. Rosie directed him south and toward a road he hadn’t been down before. It was marked with a series of county numbers, and up ahead it climbed up the biggest hill he’d seen around here.

“Gotta say, I’m surprised by the hills. I thought all of Illinois was as flat as Chicago.”

“I don’t know about that. But I do know that on the rare days we get a decent snowfall, every kid in the county is here with their sled.” She pointed to a dirt road that forked off the main one. “Turn right.”

Cruz’s truck bumped along the tracks left by previous vehicles, still climbing upward. Trees grew in thick rows on both sides. After a minute, they emerged into a clearing with several other cars. Rosie hopped out, clutching her blanket to her chest. She grinned as he joined her. “Prepare to see the prettiest sunset in Illinois,” she said.

Her enthusiasm was contagious as she led him through a line of trees. On the other side stretched several yards of green grass…and then nothing.

“Come here.” Rosie pulled him past the dozen or so people who talked in small groups, to the edge.

He stepped up next to her and peered over the apparent drop off. A vertical stretch of dirt plummeted twenty feet, then the ground sloped at a kinder angle. Beyond, the descent ended in a precise patchwork of fields punctuated by the occasional tree. Green ribbons of newly planted shoots formed orderly rows. The whole thing looked like a damn painting, and he couldn’t help but be struck that places like this actually existed. “Whoa.”

“Yeah,” Rosie said. “This is pretty enough right now. But you just wait.”

“Is this all part of Redemption County?”

“Yep. The land is worked by different owners now. But they know they’re subject to be on display every night. They keep up appearances.”

“Yo, Cruz.” A deep voice from behind them cut into his thoughts. He turned to see Matt sitting down with a pretty dark-haired woman.

“Hey, man.” Cruz turned to Rosie. “Matt’s on the crew with me. You know him?”

“Shoot, Cruz. I spent all second grade competing with Matt Halpern on who could catch more frogs. Do I know him?” She waved to them and walked over. “Hi, you two! Thalia, it’s been forever, honey! How’s your grandma doing?”

Cruz could only marvel at how much of her was entwined with the town, and vice versa. He didn’t have anything to compare it to, coming from a city of two million. The closest he could relate was his would-be gang. They knew everyone’s business, and used it to claw their way to the top of the food chain.

Matt strode toward him, hand outstretched, and gave him the standard shoulder-clap man-hug. Rosie chatted with his girlfriend. “What a week, huh,” Matt said.

“Yeah.” The work was hard, hot, and grimy, but Cruz welcomed spending the whole damn day outside. Not an allotted amount of time where guards watched with rifles ready. “It’ll be nice to get that fat paycheck.”

“No shit. Thalia’s already planning how to spend it.”

“I heard my name.” Thalia came over and tucked herself under Matt’s arm. “Hi. I’m Thalia. Welcome to Sundown.”

“Thanks. It’s a pleasure to be here.” He glanced around their little group. “Rosie tells me I’m in for some kind of special sunset.”

“Is this your first time here? Oh my god,” Thalia gushed. “It’s like, out of a movie.”

Rosie sidled close to him. “See? It’s a county-wide sensation.”

“All right then. Bring it.”

Rosie spread her blanket next to Matt and Thalia’s, and they all sat down. Matt and Thalia murmured in quiet tones.

Cruz draped an arm around Rosie, inhaling her sweet smell, the clean country air, and just took a second to absorb where he was.

Three months ago he was sitting in a cell with a crappy cot and a metal toilet next to it. This, what surrounded him now, was the last thing he could have ever expected. He’d wanted to start over, and this was as far from familiar as he could get.

The sun dipped toward the horizon. Wispy clouds drifted across the sky as if they knew they were purely decorative. Nothing substantial about them, and no way could they obscure what was about to happen.

Pink and orange streaks painted the sky. Birds chirped in the trees behind them. Next to him, Rosie was warm and vibrating with energy. “It’s starting,” she whispered.

“What, exactly?” he asked. Sure the sky was pretty. But he had the sensation something more was going to happen.

“Look at the fields.”

He followed her gaze and at first he didn’t notice anything. Then the patchwork of crops and grasses changed. They took on a glow that matched the sky above, starting from the westernmost point and stretching east to the bluff where they all sat.

As the sun dropped and the colors above intensified, so did the tints highlighting the ground. In minutes, the entire landscape was lit with sunset colors. Pink and orange sliced across the crops in a blaze of intense hues. Red light dusted the canopies of the trees. He’d seen pictures of sunsets on water, but never on farmland.

“That’s pretty cool,” he said. “Though that’s not a description to do it justice.”

“No one can describe it proper,” she murmured. “I think you did fine. It takes some time to sink in.”

“It’s nice to look at,” he said, “but not as nice as where I’m looking now.”

She gazed up at him. “There you go, being all sweet.”

“Just being honest.”

“I think you’re flirting with me.”

“Might be.”

She leaned up enough so that her lips brushed his. “You’re something else, Cruz.”

He stole a brief, chaste kiss from her plump lips and then rubbed his nose along hers. “So are you, Rosie-girl.”

The sun disappeared from view, and the wash of color gradually receded in the reverse of how it had arrived. Around them, people got up and murmured goodbyes.

“So, guys, we’re gonna call it a night.” Matt spoke from somewhere above them.

Cruz stood and tugged Rosie up with him. “All right, man. See you Monday.”

“Um, Cruz?” Thalia peeped, a shy hesitant expression on her face. “I’m sorry about what happened to you. I saw some stuff online…”

Here it was, another person curious about his past. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Still.” She blinked rapidly. “When I read that, I just got so mad. It’s not right in any way.”

“No, it’s not.” He draped an arm around Rosie. He still wasn’t used to people he didn’t know apologizing for things they didn’t do. And she was right. He let the awkward silence stretch out, because there was really nothing else to say.

She fiddled with a bracelet on her wrist. “Um, are more of your friends moving here? Or, you know, into the area?”

Say what? “Uh…not that I know of. Why?”

She glanced at Matt. “Well, I work at the Sleepy Time Inn in Carbondale. My friend Helena works the night shift and she said these two guys came last night that really freaked her out. Lots of um, tattoos. She said even on their necks.” Thalia’s eyes widened as she emphasized the last word. “I don’t know, I didn’t see them. She’s kind of old fashioned, I guess.”

Cruz kept quiet, not sure where she was going with this. Beside him, Rosie pressed closer. “Um Thalia…did you get their names, maybe?”

“No. I can check though.” She frowned. “Oh! Helena also said they paid in cash. Like, they had wads of it. More than she’s ever seen before except at the bank. And she’s pretty sure they cursed in Spanish but then she said they had a Chicago accent. They were complaining about a long drive.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, this is dumb to bring up. They could be anyone.”

“Well, I guess just let us know if there’s any trouble,” Rosie said.

“Sure. I’ll text you.” Thalia gave a small smile.

Rosie gave her a quick hug. “Thanks, girl.”

They all made their way back to the cars, Matt and Thalia separating to get to theirs.

Cruz got Rosie in his truck, then rounded the front to get in. He found her frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“That was weird.” She watched Matt’s truck pull out of its makeshift parking space. “Thalia’s a sweetheart. I don’t know why she’d say that…unless she was worried. I mean, she basically said you might know these guys because they have tattoos and sound like they’re from the city. They could be from any city!”

“You getting riled up over there?” He reached over to flick a long strand of hair off her shoulder.

“Well, yeah.” That frown stayed in place. “I don’t like that assumption.”

“I’m not riled. I’d say you don’t have to be, but you’re pretty cute when you are.” He guided the truck back down the bluff, following the taillights of the car ahead of him.

She gave him a half smile, but kept on with her point. “You’re not bothered in the least that she kinda stereotyped you and some other dudes?”

He shrugged. “If I got mad every time that happened, I’d probably be a permanent student in anger management classes.”

“See, that’s the thing. People don’t know the whole story.”

“Not everyone wants the answer.”

She sighed and stared out the window. “True.” Sadness colored her tone.

“Hey.” He laid a hand on her knee. “Those people who judge? Fuck ‘em. They see what they want to see and hear what they want to hear.”

She dropped her own hand on top of his, tracing small circles on his skin. “You make it sound so easy. How do you do it?”

“I know that if they won’t look past the surface, then I don’t have time for them. They’re not gonna change.”

“You’re right. People are pretty set in their ways. Whether that’s good or bad.” She slowly moved her fingers up his arm, tracing his tattoos. Her touch was tender yet so tempting. Did she realize the effect she had on him? “Didn’t mean to get in a tizzy over that. What Thalia said about those guys, it could be nothing.”

“I might like your tizzies.”

“I can’t hide my emotions too well, I guess. Not a good poker face there.”

Turning back onto the main road, Cruz hit the gas and chuckled.

“Though if I was playing for real, then watch out.” She made a sweeping motion in the air in front of her face. “No one knows what I’m thinking.”

What did she just say? He swung a glance to her. “You play poker?”

“Sure do.”

“For real?” That was the last thing he’d expect from his little country girl. “Where’d you learn?”

“Shane taught me.” She twisted in the seat so she was nearly sideways, facing him. “After my accident, I had months of recovery where I just sat around. I read tons of books and watched movies, but I got to a point where I needed something else to do.”

“No shit.”

“So he taught me, and when I got good enough he’d bring friends over and we’d all play. For chips, of course. I had no income.”

“You keep surprising me, Rosie-girl.”

“Why? Do you play?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then, there you go.” She made a satisfied mm-hmm. “That may be the first thing we have in common.”

He laughed, because she was right. Well, almost. He had a hunch about one other thing, which he hoped to pursue ASAP.

“Wanna play?” she asked softly, reaching to idly caress his bicep.

They were almost at her driveway and her hands were magic on his arm. He’d played poker when everything he had was on the line, both before prison and inside. “I’d have to go easy on you.”

She sucked in a breath. “You did not just say that. Cruz, I’d whip you so bad, this truck would belong to me.”

“Oh really?” He turned into her drive. “Those are fighting words.” He turned to find her eyes locked on him in a playful challenge.

“Damn straight they are.”

He slid his hand from her knee to her smooth thigh. “All right. You’re on, pretty girl.”

“Yes!” She straightened as they neared her house, and he instantly missed her hands on him. “Hmm. What should the stakes be?” She tapped finger on her chin.

He reached the front yard and threw the vehicle in park. Fucking hell. He knew exactly what the stakes should be. He exited and met her as she hopped out and stood by the truck.

“Money? Dinner?” She tilted her head as he moved in close. “Something else?”

He laid both hands on the metal behind her, caging her in his arms. “Something else.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Blue eyes flashed with a delighted spark. “What do you feel like losing?’

His body had set its cross hairs on Rosie the day they met. He brushed one hand along her shoulder, stopping at the straps of her doubled-up tank tops. He tugged gently. “Our clothes.”

Chapter 15

All the air whooshed out of Rosie’s lungs. She stared at Cruz with her mouth wide open.

Oh my god.

His fingers, warm and rough, still held the straps of her tops. His lips, so kissable, glistened when he licked them in the dark. Hunger shone in his eyes and sharpened the planes of his face. He towered over her—dark, irresistible, full of wicked promise.

She closed her mouth, vaguely aware that she should respond. But words failed her when his fingers trailed along her collarbone and up the side of her neck. A shiver cascaded down her arm.

He leaned down to her ear, so close, the warmth from his breath sizzled across her skin. “What do you say? You in?”

Yes! God, yes! She tried to form syllables once more. “Y—” He traced a line to her ear, his finger leaving a trail of need. God, this was just one finger. How would she survive his body moving against hers?

The image that swept into her mind threatened to steal her breath all over again. She grabbed his hand and held it between her own, needing his hand off her to think, yet not wanting to let go. “Do you have…Last week we didn’t, um…” Why couldn’t she say it? She’d thought about it enough all week.

“I have condoms,” he rumbled. “Do you have cards?”

She nodded.

His eyes raked a slow caress of her body, from her breasts to her mouth. “Then let’s see your game, pretty girl.”

Oh god. She wanted to lose. She wanted to win. Either way, she was on fire with anticipation. He held her hand as they ascended the porch steps, letting go only when she had to unlock the front door.

“Key?” he rasped the word and she wondered if his body was as stormy inside as hers was.

“It’s in my pocket,” she managed to whisper.

In a swift motion, he moved behind her and locked a brawny arm across her chest, holding her tightly. With mind numbing slowness, he slid his other hand down her side, over her hip, and toward the front pockets of her jeans. She could only breathe in short gasps. Oh my god. He held her so close, she could feel his hardness against her backside. Thank god he was just as out of control as she was. She clutched his bicep because she had to touch him somewhere.

One by one, he worked his fingers under the seam of her pocket and pushed them down.

God. She was going to die. Each centimeter he moved lower was closer to the deep ache that pulsed in her abdomen. Each finger taunted her skin, with only the thin cotton pocket material acting as a barrier to his invasion.

He reached the bottom and his fingers splayed, almost reaching the juncture of her thighs. Electricity sparked down her legs. She was going to pass out. How was she going to play poker?

She may as well just strip now, for all the good she’d be able to do.

“You teasing me?” His lips growled against her neck.

“No.” You’re teasing me.

“No key here, babe.” Warm fingers curled inside her pocket.

“Wrong pocket.”

Faster than she could breathe, he spun her around and pushed her against her door. “That was a naughty thing to do.” He leaned down, sexy mouth an inch from hers.

“You didn’t ask whi—”

He slid his hand into her other pocket, delving roughly. She couldn’t hold back a whimper, because that was just as hot as his slow exploration. Every nerve ending was on fire.

Strong fingers wriggled and slid, searching, making her writhe. “Cruz,” she panted.

“Is this the right place? Or are you gonna make me check some more?”

“It-it’s right.” One syllable words were all she could manage. How was he talking normally?

His fingers closed. “So it is.” He withdrew it with tantalizing slowness and dangled it between them. “Allow me.”

She nodded, past the ability to speak, as he moved her from the frame to his side. He unlocked the door and shoved it wide, gesturing for her to go first into the dark house. She kicked off her shoes out of habit, belatedly remembering that they may have counted as one clothing item to remove. Oh well. She wasn’t going to last long. Who was she kidding?

“Um…” she angled her head toward the back of the house.

He toed off his own shoes and socks. She nearly stopped breathing. He stood in jeans, a T-shirt…and maybe underwear?

He came close enough to grab a lock of her hair and let it fall through his fingers. “Ready?”

She nodded and padded to the kitchen, where she got a deck of cards from a drawer. Cruz was right behind her as she led them to the family room. She tugged the coffee table away from the couch and sat down on the floor at one side.

He took the floor on the other side as she shuffled the deck. “Five card stud?”

She nodded. With just two players, game options were limited.

He stretched his hands out in front of him, cracking his knuckles. “Deal us in, babe.”

She laid a blind card in front of each of them and moved them to the sides. They’d turn those over later. Next card would be face up. She pulled a card for him and laid it on the table: a jack of spades.

For her, the next one was a five of hearts. Her loss.

She set down the deck and reached for the hem of her first tank top. She’d worn two today, doubled up because the top layer was sheer. Slowly she drew it up and over her head. She still had a plain white tank on, which was super tight because it wasn’t meant to be seen, and her bra.

His eyes tracked her like a panther.

She set her top on the floor and drew a shaky breath. With trembling fingers she turned over his next card. Four of clubs.

Should be easy to beat…but her next card was a two of clubs. Crap. Her loss again. She stood silently, slowly, and popped the button on her capri jeans. With a quick push to get them over her hips, they dropped to the carpet.

His eyes were level with her core. He licked his lips as he stared at her panties, her thighs. Skin he had almost just touched through her pockets. Tingles of memory shot through her. She sat down, feeling a rush of moisture between her legs.

Next card. For him, a nine of diamonds. For her, a queen of clubs. Thank god, his loss. She raised her eyes in heated anticipation.

He reached behind his neck and grabbed a handful of his shirt. In one quick yank, he had it over his head and tossed somewhere. God knew where, because she couldn’t take her eyes off his chest.

Chiseled. Hard. Inked. Words wrapped across one pec in a foreign language. Swirls, both bold and intricate, caressed the sculpture of his biceps and shoulders. Six pack abs, defined by a trail of hair that disappeared into his jeans.

Lord help her, she was nearly panting again. She raised her eyes to his face, not ashamed at all to gawk. He was perfect. She couldn’t move, riveted by him, in her house, so intense and sexy and about to—

“Want me to deal?”

“I got it,” she squeaked, since her voice was hit and miss ever since he’d declared their game on.

She dealt them each another card. His was the ace of hearts. God. She couldn’t beat that. Her card was a seven of hearts.

She only had panties, her strapless bra, and a skimpy white tank meant to be worn under other things. She reached up under her shirt to unhook her bra. Her nipples hardened as the cotton slid down, pushing against the thin tank.

“Jesus,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

That was four turns each. Time to check the face down cards she had dealt. Rosie slid a fingernail under the edge of hers, heat thundering in her chest. Cruz dragged his eyes from her breasts. She swore he was about to pounce. “You first,” he rumbled.

She flipped her card. Ace of diamonds.

He stood and tore open the button of his pants.

“Y-you didn’t look at your—”

“Don’t need to.” He yanked the zipper down and shoved his pants down past his hips. They fell the rest of the way. Rosie was only aware of this fact because logically, gravity existed on Earth.

Nothing was logical for her anymore. Her mind hazed over in delirium. She was dying. Cruz stood in a pair of black boxer briefs low on narrow hips. His erection stretched the fabric in a way that made her thighs clench. “I’ll take the loss.” He shoved the coffee table to the side and dropped to the floor in front of her.

Rosie’s breath hitched as Cruz prowled to a crouch, inches away. The way he moved was so fluid and graceful, but she knew what he was capable of. She’d seen him fight. He was dangerous. He was a predator. And now, she was in his sights.

Chin raised, lips parted, she was a breathless mess. Her body ached for anything he would do.

Moving closer, he paused for a delicious heart-stopping second before he slid a hand to her nape and crushed his lips to hers. She whimpered in the sheer delight and relief of finally feeling his skin on hers, after being taunted with the perfect display of his chest.

He delved deep, sweeping his tongue along hers. At the same time he shifted his grip to her hair and tugged her back. Awash in blissful surrender, she let him pull her to the carpet.

“Rosie,” he growled into her mouth. “God, you’re so perfect.” He moved a hand down to her breast, squeezing through the flimsy cotton.

“Cruz,” she whispered, and skated her hands up his biceps. So hard, his muscles…She’d gotten a brief touch at the fair, when she’d almost fallen off the bleachers. Now she could be as greedy as she wanted. She stroked and traced each ridge, vowing to do the same with her tongue.

“Been wanting to do this for so long.” He kissed along her jaw and down her throat. When he got to her shoulder, he scraped his teeth along her skin, making goose-bumps erupt all down her arm. He chuckled as he traced the evidence of his bite. “You like that, baby?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She was long past the ability to talk. The weight of his body on hers was a sensual pressure that she arched into, needing to feel every inch of him, everywhere.

With a tempting glint in his eye, he moved to her breast and sucked at her nipple through the tank top. His free hand drifted to her other side to play.

Sweet agony tore through her as he nipped and tugged at her nipples. She ached for more, for relief, and needing him to take her higher.

He hooked the straps of her top and yanked them off her shoulders and down around her biceps. Breathing hard, he grabbed her top at the center front and pulled it down just below her breasts. As the cotton brushed across her nipples they tightened to stiff points begging for his touch.

A devilish grin tilted his lips. “So fucking beautiful.” He pinned her arms to her sides, pushing them under her so her body arched up to his mouth, and lowered his head.

He took one bud in between his lips. Barely in his mouth. Oh god. Panting, she silently begged him for more.

He locked his gaze with hers and feathered his tongue across the tip. Rosie cried out at the sweet tease. “More.”

She wriggled under him, but it was like being held under a boulder. A big, hot, muscular one bent on making her lose her mind. He only grinned and gripped her other side between his thumb and forefinger. Not moving…his touch was warm and seductive. The ache between her thighs turned painful as he built her desire to a fever pitch.

“Cruz, please. I need more.” She gasped the words, forcing them through lips that still tingled from his kiss. “Touch me, pinch me, bite … please. I need it.”

With a rumble, he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth. His tongue lashed the tight bud, swirling. He rolled her other side between his fingers. God, yes!

She dimly realized she was rocking against him—as much as she could. His heavy body had hers pinned at their hips, torso, and arms. He released her biceps only to cup both her breasts in his hands and flick his thumbs across her nipples.

“What do you want, baby?” he growled.

“I want to come,” she panted. Maybe that was selfish, but her body ached for release. He was driving her over the edge of sanity.

He leaned back to trail one hand down her stomach and to the edge of her panties. “Yeah?” One wicked finger traced the top lacy edge.

She gritted her teeth. “Yes.” Her own hand went to her neck and she dragged it down between her breasts, stopping at her ribs. She teetered on a knife edge, seeking release, hot, desperate, craving him. She couldn’t catch her breath. Cruz was beyond intense—he was a force to be reckoned with, or to willingly submit to.

He slid his hand down her center, over the silk of her panties, skimming over her clit. Her hips jerked and she gasped. That tiny touch was her breaking point. She grabbed his hand and pulled it to her core. “Don’t stop,” she rasped.

He growled and brought her hand to his lips, pressing a brief kiss to her knuckles before he set it down. His hand followed the reverse path hers had, traveling up her belly and stopping between her aching breasts. His eyes shone with a force that was rougher and more wild than anything she’d seen in him.

He laid his hand just below her collarbones and pushed her back with gentle but firm pressure. He moved between her legs. Rough hands gripped the edge of her panties and peeled them down. She tilted her hips to wiggle out of them, not caring that she was fully exposed and vulnerable.

Cruz would take care of her. She shivered, mind lost to lust.

Hungry eyes roamed her body. He dipped his head and dropped soft kisses across her abdomen…

Along her scar.

In her Cruz-fantasy come to life, she’d forgotten he’d see it. And it was the last thing she wanted to think about now…but the tender attention he was paying her erased any worry she might have.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to. And when he had covered every inch of the uneven silver line with those sexy lips, he gave her such a heated, dominant grin that a whimper escaped her. No man in existence could ever be this hot.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.” He lowered his head.

Just his warm breath on her made her heart nearly fly out of her chest. When he licked her, slowly and gently, she cried out.

“Jesus. You taste good,” he muttered, and dragged his tongue along her slick folds again. He explored, going slowly, a perfect pace to make her lose her mind.

“Cruz,” she murmured. “Feels so good.”

His only reply was to rumble his approval against her skin, a vibration that made her moan. When he traced circles around her clit with his talented tongue, she was almost there. Almost…she reached down for one of his hands and guided it up to her breast.

She just needed a little more…he tugged at her nipple as he kept up his magic between her legs. Waves built inside her body, a churning storm induced by Cruz. He brought her higher and higher until she shattered, her body quaking in heart-stopping bliss.

She trembled and shook, riding out the waves that kept coming. She’d never come this hard in her life. “Cruz!” she gasped as her body trembled in a delicious afterglow.

He prowled up her body and paused at her neck to kiss his way to her ear. “You’re the most fucking sexy woman I’ve ever seen.” He took her lobe gently between his teeth. “I want to make you come again.”

She slid her arms around his shoulders. “You’ll kill me. I almost died just now.”

He cupped her neck, not hard but possessively. Maybe she should have thought the gesture was too proprietary, but she didn’t. Every cell in her body craved him, in every possible way. “You look alive and sexy as fuck to me.”

“So do you,” she whispered. Her fingers traced lightly down his biceps. “I want to lick every inch of you.”

Chapter 16

Cruz groaned. He had Rosie beneath him, sated. His hand on her throat, he could take her right now, rough or gentle. She’d let him, he knew it. But there was no reason to rush. They had all night.

Her words and her exploring fingers made his cock jump. He’d been hard since they’d gotten out of his truck. Just the thought of her naked curves made him crazy. And seeing her come apart, tasting her, he knew once would never be enough.

He was already addicted to her, and he planned to do all in his power to make her feel the same.

“You’ll get your turn, baby. But not this time.”

She stroked her hands down his back, her soft touch igniting fire as she drew lower. She reached the waistband of his boxer briefs and hooked her fingers under the edge. He released his hold on her and set his hands on the floor on either side of her head. Drawn to those sexy, naughty lips, he dipped to kiss her.

She met him eagerly, hungry, as if she were still as needy as he felt. Her little tongue darted along his, sweeping inside boldly. She arched her back, pushing those perfect breasts up into his chest.

He groaned, unable to resist cupping one full mound. “God, the things I want to do to you,” he murmured against her mouth.

Her breath hitched and she pushed at the fabric of his shorts. “I want whatever that means.” Her drawl tickled over his cheek in a verbal caress.

Hell. He stood and held her gaze as he pushed his underwear over his hips and let them fall. He tracked her eyes in the low light as she stared at his cock. Freed of its confines, it bobbed straight toward her. She licked her lips.

God, she was an angel. A sassy one. A sweet one. And one that needed to be satisfied again.

Reaching for his jeans, he dug a condom from one pocket. He tore it open and rolled it on, spurred on by those hungry eyes of hers.

He dropped to cover her body. She still had that scrap of a tank top around her waist and hips, and that’s where it could stay. There’d be time to get her completely naked later. She instantly reached for him, gripping his shoulders as he settled his weight between her legs. He let his cock brush against her center, intending to tease her. But just the hint of her heat was enough to tear through most of his restraint.

She leaned up and kissed his shoulders, anywhere she could reach on them. Her lips were a soft contrast to her teeth as she nibbled his skin. Her hair tickled, her body was hot, her breasts pressed against his chest.

Beautiful Rosie. He needed her this goddamn second.

“You ready for me, baby?” he rumbled, needing to ask. Needing to hear she was on board. Just to make sure.

“Yes. I want you,” she whispered and lightly scraped her nails down his back.

Thank the lord. He positioned himself at her entrance and pushed in an inch. Watching her face, he gauged her reaction.

“I can take you.” She caressed his upper arms again.

He nudged in farther. Her eyes went wide for a minute and she let out a deep breath. “I’m good, Cruz. Just like that.”

Thank god. Because stopping would be hell. She was hotter than he could have imagined, her body gripping him like a vise. He sank fully inside her velvet heat and a groan slipped from his mouth.

God, she was perfect. His balls brushed the soft skin between her legs. Beneath him her face was flushed, lips parted, and she mouthed his name.

He pulled back and rocked in again, coating himself in the evidence of her release. Slick. Heated. Her legs came up to lock around his hips.

She traced the ink on his shoulders before her hands wandered down to his abs. Every little brush made him ache for more, for her to touch him everywhere. Fascination lit her eyes as she explored him, like she was trying to memorize him. And hell, he’d give her every chance she wanted.

“You’re so tight and perfect,” he gritted. Her hands were magic. Her body so open and lush and ready. It all combined to urge him faster. “Need you, baby.” He curled his hands under her shoulders and started a steady pace.

Every inch of her squeezed him as he slid in and out. The pressure on his cock was sweet torture, every ridge of him stroked by her tight walls. He couldn’t remember when sex had felt this good. He rocked harder into her and her breasts bounced against his chest. Those fuckable breasts that he planned to spend lots of time on later.

She was breathing hard as he moved faster, but her eyes glowed with an earthy heat. She skimmed her hands down his sides, teasing the skin at his hips before moving around to grab his ass.

“Fuck, Rosie.” He thrust faster, past the point of no return. All that existed in his world was fucking her, and the mind-blowing orgasm that was building at the base of his spine. A light sheen of sweat slicked between them. Her hair fanned out around her head like a halo. So pretty, so perfect…a growl tore from his chest as he exploded inside her. His hips slammed hers. There was no way he could go slowly but thank god, she didn’t seem to mind. She grabbed his shoulders and hung on, nipping his skin with her little teeth.

As the last wave shook through him, he let his weight settle on her. His heart hammered in his chest as his lungs kicked into gear and remembered to breathe. “Baby,” he mumbled against her neck. Blissed-out numbness spread through his limbs.

“Cruz.” Her voice was barely audible and she tapped his back.

“Shit.” He pushed up, straightening his arms. “Sorry.”

She took a huge breath. “It’s okay. You’re just a lot bigger than me.”

An image flashed into his head of her on top of him, along with the plan to do it that way next time so she could collapse on him. Hell. They were still connected, and his dick throbbed inside her.

“You’re amazing.” She pushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, and the sex glow of her eyes made him swell with pride.

“So are you.” He dipped down for a quick kiss, then slowly withdrew from her. “Be right back.” He stood and headed to the bathroom, where he quickly disposed of the condom.

Returning to the room, he found she’d turned off the light. She stood silhouetted against the window, framed in the barely there light of a half moon, soft hair wild from his loving. She stepped toward him and he pulled her close.

“Can you stay?” she asked softly.

“Of course.” Had she thought he wouldn’t? That he’d fuck her and leave? Anger bubbled up in him, wondering if that’s how she had been treated in the past. He slid a finger under her jaw and tilted her head to look at him. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

She smiled, a sweet, genuine, delighted smile. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“You got it.” She could ask him to go anywhere with her right now and it would be fine. Upstairs, outside, out on the grass, on the porch. He scooped up his jeans, which held his condom stash, and grabbed the rest of his clothes.

She did the same and led the way up the stairs in the foyer, but hell if he could pay any attention to things like steps. Her bare, sexy ass was right in front of him and he couldn’t keep his hands off. He dropped his clothing and grabbed her hips.

She let out a squeak as he pressed a kiss to her lower back and squeezed each of her perfect cheeks.

“You have…” He kissed down the swell of one side. “The hottest ass.” At the bottom of her sweet cheeks, the scent of her release was concentrated and damn intoxicating. He licked her skin, moving closer to her core.

She gasped and clutched the railing. “C-Cruz?” She twisted to look at him.

He straightened, keeping one hand firmly on one buttock. Maybe that was new for her. He leaned in to her ear. “Have you ever…” he kissed the shell of her ear. “Let anyone…” He slid his fingers closer to the center of her ass.

“No.” Her eyes were wide, but the more he massaged her, getting close but not touching her directly, her lids dropped lower. A tiny sigh escaped her lips.

“One day, baby.” He dragged his fingers up her ass from bottom to top and back down. “But not tonight.”

“Okay,” she whispered on a shy smile.

Christ, she was killing him with her mix of naiveté and knowledge. Inexperience in one thing, a pro at another. And the thought of what she had just agreed to sent blood surging to his cock. He smacked her bottom. “Let’s get to bed.”

She whirled and darted up the steps, turning left. He charged after her and found himself in a large dark room. Bare wood floors, smooth under his feet, glowed faintly in the light of windows on two sides of the room. Rosie stood next to a bed with an antique intricate white iron headboard. He stalked toward her beautiful naked body and pushed her down onto a soft quilt.

Rosie giggled and scooted over to make room for him to lay next to her. A soft breeze lifted gauzy curtains, but the bed was all in shadows. Talk about one place he never expected to be—naked in bed with Rosie Marlow, with an unfinished poker game downstairs.

She lay on her side, facing him, eyes devouring his chest. “I want to know about all of these,” she murmured, and reached out to trace the tattoo on his right pec. “What does this mean?”

“Vivir por la espada, morir por la espada.” He grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Live by the sword, die by the sword.”

A tiny frown knitted her brows. “Why?”

He rolled to his back, still holding her hand. “That kind of life was all I could envision. Constant violence. I figured I’d end up dead soon. Definitely never thought I’d live to be twenty-eight.”

Shock strained her voice. “Oh my god, Cruz.”

“I saw so many brothers die. And guys in rival gangs. Teenagers. Drop outs like me.” He studied her smooth unmarked skin. “Then there were the innocent people in the neighborhoods, caught in the crossfire. It happened all the time.”

“Why doesn’t it get better? What about the police?”

“They can’t be everywhere at once and they can’t keep up.”

“I’m so glad you’re here and away from all that.”

“Me too.” He forced a smile he didn’t feel. Because, like he’d tried to tell her, he’d carry the scars of that lifestyle forever. He was hundreds of miles from the city, but the darkness still lived inside him. Rosie was too sweet, too pure, for him to deserve her. But he was pulled to her as if by gravitational force. He was a bastard for stealing this time with her, but he couldn’t stay away.

Chapter 17

Rosie released Cruz’s hand and rolled closer, so she could lie on that sexy chest of his. Her head swam with sadness at the harsh and hopeless view he’d once held. Though he had explained it, his utter matter of factness hit her hard. He seemed so intense, at least to her. How could things have been so grim?

Then again, she had almost died. And that had changed her in ways she never expected.

But that had been one moment in time, unexpected. His had been a numb realization brought on by a bleak, uncaring environment.

Once again, she wondered about his family. If she had a child—a knife sliced through her psyche, just from the hypothetical—she couldn’t imagine him or her being on their own so much they would turn to crime. But what did she really know? Times like this, she felt so sheltered. All she knew was her cozy little town.

Dragging herself back to the moment, she again couldn’t believe how lucky she was that he was here. He’d provided the most excitement she’d had in years, given her a giddy anticipation she thought was behind her forever. He’d protected her and helped that woman at the fair who he didn’t even know.

Eager to keep him talking, she lightly traced another tattoo on his left forearm. It was a cross, but it was unlike any she had seen before. The ends of the black bars were pointed, and weaving around them were thin tendrils of ink that mimicked the ones on his biceps. “This doesn’t seem like it goes with those words.” She moved her hand to the Spanish script flowing across his pec.

A half smile graced his mouth. “I kinda got that one for my grandma.”

“Really? That’s sweet.” Her heart warmed at the family reference.

“Yeah, I thought she’d like it. She was always praying for me. I thought it’d make her feel better, worry less about me, thinking that God was watching out for me or something.”

“Did it work?”

“She said it was nice, but I needed to go to church more.”

Rosie giggled. “Grandmas. They start out so sweet when you’re little, then when you’re a teenager, they call you out on everything.”

He snorted. “Exactly. But they do it so nicely, you know they love you. And they’re not gonna ground you.”

“It’s beautiful.” She traced her fingers up to his shoulders, where swirls both thick and thin flowed around his muscles. They curled and flexed when he did, almost like they were part of him. He’d been so sexy, moving on top of her, those inked lines begging for her mouth. She’d nipped him then, unable to resist. And now, temptation ripped through her anew. “What about these?” She raised her head and moved to the lowest edge of one dark swirl.

“Just liked ‘em.” Blue-gray eyes pierced her.

“Me too.” She held his gaze and pressed her lips to his skin, tasting a hint of salty sweat. Then she did what she’d been dying to do and licked a line along one sharply defined edge.

He sucked in a breath and one hand went to her back.

She kept moving up, kissing, licking, nibbling. His skin was so smooth in contrast to the hard strong muscles beneath. “Been wantin’ to taste you,” she murmured.

“Fuck, woman, your mouth feels damn good.”

“Mmm.” She reached his collarbone and started to kiss her way across.

But he yanked her up to meet his hungry mouth. She let out a squeak and braced herself with a hand on each side of his head. He took advantage and pulled her fully on top of his hard body. He grabbed her knees and shifted them down on either side of his torso, so she was straddling him.

She took over the kiss, sensing he let her. She explored his mouth, letting her tongue duel with his. His hands roamed her body, caressing her rear. He brought one palm down with a smack that echoed off the walls.

“What was that for?” She mock pouted.

“An ass this sexy has to deserve a spanking. Just because.” He grinned. “And you beat me at poker.”

She raised he head. “You didn’t check your last card!”

His hands trailed up her sides to linger at the lower curve of her breasts, drawing slow circles that stole her breath. “You won,” he whispered. “Maybe we need a rematch.”

“Mm,” she sighed, because his fingers were devilish. Her breasts were pressed snugly to his chest, but she needed more of his touch. She pushed up.

A rumble vibrated from his chest and his eyes tracked her every movement. But he kept up his slow tease, dragging his fingers back and forth across the lower swell of each breast. Not where she needed it. Desire uncurled in her belly.

“Cruz,” she whispered. Her nipples hardened as his finger skimmed closer, at her sides now. Not touching the pebbled skin that ached for him.

“Yeah?”

“You’re killing me.”

“Tell me what you want, baby.” One hand abandoned her breast and dropped to her bottom. He dipped low, between her spread legs, teasing her damp, heated flesh.

“I want to feel you everywhere,” she managed to choke out around wild need that threatened to pull her under. What was it about him that drew her so strongly? He was like a magnet. She couldn’t think about why she shouldn’t be with him. All she could process was his hands, his mouth, his incredibly hard body…she peeked over her shoulder to see his cock, fully aroused. “Cruz,” she murmured, and grabbed the hand from between her legs.

She moved it to her breast, placing it fully over her sensitive flesh. He growled and tugged her nipple between thumb and forefinger. Then he moved his thumbs slowly, rubbing her to the point of mind-numbing sensation.

But two could play at this. She scooted back until her ass bumped his rigid length. As slowly as he had teased her, she rubbed herself up and down along his hot, hard shaft, letting it slide over her pussy lips and between her cheeks.

“Rosie,” he growled in warning, and dropped his hands from her chest.

She whimpered in protest.

“Get my jeans.” He bit out.

“Jeans?” She blinked in surprise.

“Condom. Now.” His voice was a rough snarl.

Oh. She hopped off him and, in a flash, grabbed his jeans from the floor by the bed. Climbing back on the bed, she knelt beside him and handed him the denim. He pulled his wallet from one pocket and removed a foil packet. Fascinated, she watched his abs as he tore it open and leaned up to roll it on. Every part of his six-pack tensed and flexed. Lower, rigid cuts of muscle curved downward. Another place she wanted to thoroughly explore. Even the muscles under his ribs, at his sides, flexed in a way that made her want to taste.

He skimmed a hand up her stomach, bringing her out of her Cruz-induced physique fantasy. “Back where you were, pretty girl.”

Those commands, uttered with equal parts roughness and promise, sent a pulse of lust through her body. He was dominant in the best way. She straddled him again, just as she had before, letting his thickness rub against her rear.

“Baby you’re giving me all kinds of ideas.” He slid a hand to her lower back, applying pressure. “Come here.”

She leaned forward and he captured one aching nipple in his mouth. She dropped her head back on a gasp of pleasure as he sucked her deep. His tongue feathered and laved. Every nerve ending in her aching tips leapt to life. His touch was perfect, giving her relief and stoking her need to another level of no turning back. Moisture tickled her center and she rocked against his stomach, needing contact.

Move back to his big sexy cock? Or stay here and let him play with her breasts? “Cruz,” she murmured, shifting her hips. “I need you.”

He released her with a stare so hungry it nearly made her weep. “Need you too, baby. Right this damn second.”

God. Knowing he was as hot and bothered as she was—again—made her insane. She raised herself up enough to take his shaft in her hand.

He hissed as he watched her.

She guided him to her entrance and slowly lowered herself down. Her tissues were ready, thanks to the sweet and hard fucking he’d given her downstairs. How can I be so needy again? She didn’t understand. But she gave up trying to think past her name or his. He was a force of nature. One that she was fast growing addicted to, and was beyond trying to stop.

Every thick inch of him tunneled into her with blinding bliss. She let out a purr of pleasure as she got him settled balls deep. Her body was alive, on fire, and ready for him. He lay before her, all muscles and ink, with shadows both physical and emotional, and all she wanted was to drown in him.

He’d fought the things that had threatened to take him down. She couldn’t say the same. But for now, she’d steal this night, or however long he’d give her.

Leaning forward to adjust her angle, she propped her hands on the bed near his shoulders. In this position, she was in control. Sort of. She got the sense he would always be in control sexually. Or maybe she’d just do his every bidding in bed, because she knew she’d be rewarded.

He reached for her breasts and tugged her nipples. “You look so damn sexy riding my cock,” he growled.

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, because her lips wouldn’t form actual words. He was big and warm beneath her, between her, toying with her…he was an overload of living, breathing sex. She rode him as her need built. His fingers worked her, rolling her and squeezing, giving her exactly what she needed.

She rocked faster as desire spiraled, reaching out to every place on her body that he touched. She was close…

Abruptly he grabbed her arms and pushed them behind her, tipping her off balance. She pitched forward, but he caught her with an iron grip. He held her arms behind her back, locking her in place on his chest. She blinked in confusion. “What are you—”

“I got you, baby. You’re right where you need to be. Hang on.” With a hard thrust he drove deep inside her.

She panted, adjusting as his hips slammed up into hers, hard and fast. She was crushed to him, immobile, her body his to command. He was in control. She’d had no chance.

His cock slid in and out, the thick ridges stretching her skin. She couldn’t move…and she didn’t know when she’d ever been so turned on. He held her tight and close. Her body trembled from him powering into her with such force. Every time she thought she’d slip off him, he steadied her. Her breasts brushed his chest as he plunged, over and over, harder each time.

His face was a mix of concentration and lust. A wild roughness lit his eyes and the corded muscles in his neck bunched as he had his way with her. She’d never had sex like this. Never this position, never surrendering control.

She trusted him. No matter what he said about his past, he was the kind of man she wanted to be with.

Breathing hard, he let out a growl and slammed her so hard, she felt it in her heart. She cried out as her own orgasm ripped through her. She had made this man come undone. He’d totally dominated her. Nothing had ever been hotter.

“Fuck!” he yelled as he came, pumping fast. Her legs quaked. His grip on her arms tightened as he slammed her. With one final thrust he stopped and shifted his arms to wrap around her. Gently, he stroked her back. Then he let go.

Like a rag doll, she let her arms fall to the sheet. “Oh my god, Cruz.” She lay her head on his pec, dropping a kiss to his tattoo, and just breathed.

His chest rose and fell beneath her. “Rosie, Rosie.” His hands roamed her back, down to her butt, around to her sides, caressing and soothing. “You’re a little mix of angel and devil, you know that?”

She raised her head and brushed her lips across his. “Aren’t we all?”

“I suppose so.”

She slid to his side and threw one leg over his hips. “Well, the devil in you is gonna be the death of me. You got me riled up and tuckered out. And don’t you think I’ll ever get enough of kissin’ these tattoos.” She kissed one thick black swirled bicep.

“You keep talking to me in that sexed-up southern drawl, you’re gonna get to do whatever your pretty little heart wants.”

“Mm, I’ll remember that.” She let him pull her close. She didn’t remember feeling this incredible, either happy or fucked to the point of ready-to-pass-out bliss. This moment was one of those to hold on to forever. Never mind what the future would hold. Cruz’s arms around her were all she needed.

Chapter 18

Rosie awoke to hard rain lashing the windows and thunder booming overhead. She sat up in bed, belatedly realizing she was naked…

Cruz. Last night. Oh my god. She glanced to the side of the bed. Empty.

What?

But the windows were shut, and she distinctly remembered leaving them open to catch the cool evening breeze.

She scooted out of bed, feeling a delicious twinge south of her belly button. She closed her eyes for a second. He’d been a sexual god last night. She bit her lips just thinking about his naked muscles and the ways he’d worked her over.

A metallic clank echoed from downstairs. Her kitchen? She grabbed a baggy T-shirt that she used for pajamas, pulled on a pair of soft fleece shorts, and started to go downstairs. But first, she went to the window that faced the front yard.

There sat Cruz’s black truck, just where they’d left it last night.

She let out a sigh of relief that he hadn’t taken off while she slept, though she hadn’t thought that of him. This was just new to her, and she needed the reassurance. She ducked into her bathroom to take care of business.

Wow. Her reflection in the mirror revealed messy, knotted hair and yesterday’s mascara still on, though it wasn’t too badly smudged. A grin spread across her face at how ravished she looked—and felt. She quickly splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth.

She headed down the steps and caught a familiar smell. Breakfast?

No way.

Hurrying the rest of the way to the kitchen, she found Cruz at her stove, humming and frying sausage patties. A bowl of eggs, cracked and whisked, sat on the counter. Holy wonderful way to wake up.

“Hey, you.” She walked in, unable to hide a huge grin.

“Morning, pretty girl.” He flipped the patties over and pulled her in for a hug. “Sleep good?”

“Yes, so good.” She skimmed her hands up his arms, to the sleeves of the T-shirt he’d worn last night. Guess he had no choice. Their little sleepover wasn’t planned. “Look at you, cooking? That’s so sweet.”

“You may wanna hold that thought until you’ve tasted it.” He frowned. “I think I can handle basic eggs and sausage, but you never know.”

“Well, it smells amazing.” She let go of him and walked to the coffee pot on the counter. “You want coffee?”

“Hell, yes.” He winked. “A little country girl rode me hard last night.”

Grinning, she filled the glass pot with water and poured it into the reservoir. “Oh my god. You’re bad. I’d spank you but you’re working with a hot pan.”

He slid her a purely sinful grin. “I’ll take a rain check.”

Oh. Her tummy flipped and it had nothing to do with the meat sizzling in the pan, but had everything to do with the tall, fully dominant man before her. “You want some help with the food?” she squeaked out around the prickle of desire that sparked down her skin.

“Nope. I’m good. And if this turns out like crap, I’ll take you somewhere for a real breakfast.”

Rosie watched him flip the sausage again, thinking this was the best, most real breakfast she could ask for. “This so nice, Cruz. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And like I said, you haven’t tasted it yet.”

I know what else I haven’t tasted. God, girl, get your mind out of the gutter. What was wrong with her?

Cruz. Cruz is what was wrong, and what was too right to be true. She was stuck in a Cruz-filled orbit, and she had no desire to leave. And she was going to be stuck as long they shared the same air space. She took a breath to get a grip and leaned a hip on the counter. “I woke up to an empty bed. Then I heard a clank.”

He chuckled. “That was me searching for a pan.” He transferred the now-done sausage to a plate and turned the burner down. “And for the record, I’d never leave without sayin’ goodbye.” He covered the few feet between them and set his warm hands on her hips. “That’s not who I am.” He sifted a frizzed lock of her hair through his fingers, searching her face, and she knew he expected a reply.

She swallowed. It was easy to state things in absolute terms when you didn’t have the whole story. And life could change in a heartbeat.

“Hey,” he said softly, skimming his hands up her arms. “Please tell me you don’t think I’d—”

“No,” she said quickly. That was the last thing she wanted him to think. That anything he’d done was wrong. No, the ugliness rested with her. “I don’t think that you’d go. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I’ll leave you a note next time,” he murmured. “Even if I’m just down here trying not to burn water.”

She smiled, because he was too perfect to exist and be standing here in her kitchen. “You don’t have to.”

He studied her with those eyes that were too perceptive. “Everything okay?”

How was he so aware of her? She forced a smile. “Yeah.”

“You get this shadow sometimes, in your eyes,” he said. “Like there’s something deep down that just hurts, or makes you sad, or just isn’t right.”

She stared at him, too shocked to speak. A hundred emotions barreled through her. How could he guess her so accurately? How could one person pick up that much…or was she that transparent? She should be happy that this one incredible man paid her that much attention.

“Um…” she blinked, drawing a blank on how to spin this. She self-admittedly had no emotional poker face.

“Maybe I should lay off this kind of talk until after breakfast,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He dropped his hands down to hold hers.

“It’s okay,” she said.

“But, Rosie.” His voice took on an edge. “Tell me if something’s bothering you. Whether it’s something I’m doing or something in the world that ticks you off. I want to know.”

“Okay.” What else could she say? How could she tell him, if the problem was within her?

Needing to redirect this conversation, she tugged him down for a kiss. His lips were soft and warm and tasted like orange juice, and she spotted his glass on the counter a second later. Next to it was a second one, unfilled.

But she needed her morning shot of caffeine, and poured coffee while he cooked up a batch of perfectly fluffy scrambled eggs. “Cream and sugar?”

“Nah. But thanks.”

Rosie added her usual ton of sugar and liberal dose of cream to her coffee, watching as he gulped a swig of the bitter liquid—completely plain. “I’ve never been able to drink it black,” she said, partly in awe and partly imagining how bad it must taste.

“And I can’t drink it with all that crap in it.” He winked and set his mug down. In a minute, the eggs were done and he divided them onto two plates. He added the sausage and they took their seats at her tiny table.

She forked a bite of egg into her mouth.”Mmm. These are delicious!” She paused. “Did you add a pinch of sugar?”

“Damn, you’re like a taste detective. That’s what my mom taught me. I think.” He paused, fork halfway to his mouth. “I may be making that up.”

“Well, you learned well. You can make these for me again.”

He stopped, fork halfway to his mouth. “You askin’?”

God, those eyes. Like he wouldn’t take no for an answer, yet carried a hint of caution as to what she would say. “Looks like it.”

“Good, ‘cause I planned on repeating this.’ He waved a finger above the table, then stood and leaned down to her. “And this.” He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her head up for a quick kiss.

“That sounds nice,” she murmured as his warm lips left hers, leaving them cool for a second. Amazing didn’t begin to describe him.

He lowered his tall frame into the chair. “Good.”

They ate in silence for a minute, Rosie trying to process the incredibility of Cruz making her breakfast. He was damn comfortable in the kitchen. He’d never mentioned a father, so she had to give a mental thanks to his mom or grandma.

A loud clap of thunder shook the house. The light flickered. Cruz glanced up and frowned. “That happen often?”

“No.”

“Good.” He devoured the last of his meal. “You working tonight?”

“No. Surprisingly. But I am watching Brenda’s girls today. She has to work the lunch shift.” She nibbled a bite of perfectly cooked sausage. “Hey, she’s having a party next weekend. She has one to kick off summer every year.”

“Kick off?” He arched a brow.

Rosie giggled. “Yeah, she tries to have it on Memorial Day weekend, and then ends up having it mid-June. She’s always late.”

He took a gulp of orange juice. “I’ll say.”

“Wanna go with me? I know she was your waitress when you got to the Grille that first night and all, but now you can officially meet her. And there’ll be a lot of Sundowners there.”

“Sure. Sounds fun.” He leveled her with a heated stare. “Long as I get you all to myself before and after.”

How did he always know the right things to say to make her wish that she had no responsibilities, that she could spend entire days wrapped in his arms? “You got yourself a deal,” she murmured.

A before and after date with Cruz. Of all the unexpected things in her life, she had a feeling he was going to be the best.

Shane’s phone rang, cutting through the long boring afternoon. Cooped up inside thanks to the deluge, he and Denver were both grumpy. Shane grabbed the phone. Glancing at the screen he recognized the cell of one of the cops in Hamilton, the next town west. “Yo, Collins.”

“Marlow.” Nate Collins wasn’t the best cop, but he wasn’t the worst either. Shane regarded everything he said with a grain of salt. “What’re you up to today?”

“Nothing, thanks to this damn storm. You?” Shane paced to the window and scowled. Nate didn’t usually call to chat.

“Nada. Hey, did you hear the Quick-Mart in Marmion had a robbery last night?”

“No. What happened?”

“Suspect came in around 11:30 at night. Had a knife, threatened the clerk. She gave him all the cash in the register. He had a mask on.”

“Shit. Clerk ok?”

“Yeah, just scared.”

“Got any leads?”

“We’re reviewing the security footage.”

“All right. Sounds like you’re on it. What do you need me for?”

“Heard Sundown’s newest resident is an ex-con.”

Shane froze and instant anger spread through his veins. He didn’t particularly like Zaffino…but he also didn’t like cops making assumptions, and he really didn’t like cops suspecting people with zero reason. He cleared his throat. “Not exactly an ex-con, since he was exonerated.”

“Shit, man, you’re splitting hairs as bad as any lawyer. All right then—he’s an ex-inmate. That’s a statement of fact.”

Shane blew out a breath. “Fine. I know. I met him. Read up on him. You got reason to place him at the scene last night?”

“No. Just checking on loose ends.”

“You can’t make up a loose end that don’t exist,” Shane growled. “Look what that got him before. And his story is all over the web, making Cook County look like a bunch of fools.”

“Take it easy, man. Didn’t know you were buds with the guy.”

Shane ground his molars. “No one is buds with anyone. And I’ll be damned if Redemption ends up in the news for any fucked-up arrests.”

“Absolutely, we don’t want that kind of spotlight on our fair county,” Nate drawled. “And we don’t want to be known for a sudden spike in crime, neither.”

“No shit, Collins,” Shane snapped. “Do your investigation. If you have any shred of evidence that might tie back to Zaffino, call me first. Are we clear?”

“You got it. Your concern for our justice system is duly noted.” Nate ended the call.

“Fucker.” Shane stalked to the kitchen. Nate was a smug asshole and Shane didn’t doubt he was chomping for a suspect to haul in.

Shit. He should’ve seen this coming. Zaffino wasn’t a boy scout, but he wasn’t a murderer either. But some people judge without knowing the whole story. He got the same treatment, just the opposite way.

People stopped him and thanked him for his service to the nation. Shane hated the word hero more than anything, but he’d learned to accept that he was going to get that label. It was one he didn’t deserve, not when half his team had died needlessly, and he’d been helpless to save them.

He opened his fridge and grabbed a beer, wondering if his initial reaction to Cruz had been too harsh. Maybe he wouldn’t have thought as much about him if Rosie hadn’t been involved.

He took a long slow pull off his Bud. He’d keep his eyes and ears open, like he always did. And he’d reserve judgement of Cruz until he knew the guy. On a level he forced himself to acknowledge, they’d both been through their own hell, and for each it was something most people never had to endure. Giving Cruz the benefit of the doubt was the least he could do.

Chapter 19

A week later, after who-knows-how-many-miles of roads busted up and repaired, the weekend loomed like a gift. Cruz was thankful for the back-breaking work in the hot sun because the sheer exhaustion was the only thing getting him to sleep at night.

After a night in Rosie’s arms, all future nights would be too long. All beds he might lie in would be too empty, unless she was beside him.

She’d told him he could dress as casually as he wanted for the party at her friend Brenda’s, but dropped a hint that she had a dress she’d gotten and needed a place to wear it. So hell, if she was going to look hot, he certainly wasn’t going to slouch it. He grabbed a new dark green T-shirt with no logos on it, and khaki shorts, and headed to her place.

Summer temperatures had arrived this week with a wave of heat and humidity. The guys on his crew swore it didn’t usually get this hot in June. Should make an interesting party. All the homes he’d seen in Sundown were small, so he guessed the party would be outside.

He parked his truck in front of Rosie’s house and walked up the steps. The front door was open. He knocked on the frame of the screen door and called, “Hello?”

“Come in,” she said from somewhere inside. “Be right down!”

He entered the dark foyer. The old house was probably as cool as she could make it. He’d noted a window air conditioning unit in her bedroom, so he guessed there was no central air. “Take your time.” He wandered over to the dining room, which he’d only given a passing glance to last week. It had a china cabinet full of very old-looking china and knickknacks. A leftover from her grandparents? The house didn’t have a lot of clutter.

The padding of bare feet on the steps had him turning around. And oh, damn.

Rosie’s delicate feet and slender legs came down the stairs. Next, a teasing swish of pale blue fabric that stopped just above her knees. One hand held the bannister, while the other carried a pair of sandals.

“Sorry to make you wait,” she said as her tiny waist came into view.

Cruz didn’t even realize his feet had walked him back to the foyer. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her and now? Something clicked in his chest.

The blue dress cradled her breasts, showing him enough to make his mouth water. A row of tiny buttons marched up the center, begging him to undo them one by one. The damn thing ended with taunting skinny little straps that made tracks over her shoulders, exactly where he wanted to kiss her. Her hair hung in long loose waves, and a smile that rivaled the sun lit her face as she locked eyes with him. “You look hot.”

“You look better.” He stopped her on the bottom step, keeping his hands at her hips. They were at eye level…those blue, blue eyes. She’d put on more makeup, not that she needed it. “You look beautiful.” He eyed the red tint on her lips. “And I wanna kiss that right off your lips.”

Her hands linked behind his neck. “Yeah, I debated on the lipstick.”

He pulled her close and spoke against her lips. “How about I help you with that decision?” Before she could reply, he gently sucked her lower lip, sliding his tongue along its plump softness.

She opened for him like she was dying for air and she grabbed his shoulders with an urgency he didn’t expect. And one that ignited a barely abated need in him. It had been a week and hell, that was too long. He slid his hands down to her ass and squeezed, slowly inching up her skirt. She whimpered and wiggled against him.

“Forget the party,” he growled into her mouth.

She tore her mouth away. “We have to go.”

“Let’s be late.” He grabbed a handful of her bare smooth ass under that flimsy fabric. She was wearing a thong. Christ.

“Can’t.” Choppy breaths from her kiss-swollen lips. “I’m helping Brenda make some of the food. God, Cruz.” She rested her forehead against his. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more.” Would it be too soon to start spending the night, every night? He hadn’t expected to be at that point with any woman any time soon. Yet here he was, having unexpected feelings for an unexpected woman in an unexpected town.

Maybe throwing that dart had been fortuitous. Maybe it was a sign, and he should stop thinking so hard.

“After the party,” she murmured. “I promise we’ll do something secret and fun and naughty.”

He groaned. “Damn, woman, you can’t tell me that and expect me to be civil at a party. I’m gonna haul you into a spare bedroom. Or bathroom. Or closet.” He grabbed her hand and held it to his rock hard erection. “You can’t even expect me to walk right now.”

She gasped as her fingers came to rest against the cotton of his fly. “Oh my god. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you…riled up.” She pulled her hand away. “I don’t want to make it worse. I mean, not until later.”

“Rosie.” He threaded a hand behind her neck and grabbed the hair at her nape. “One more word and we’re skipping this thing. I don’t care if everyone goes hungry.”

Her eyes widened.

“You get to talk about the weather. Sundown history or some shit. Nothing about later, until it is later.” He leaned close enough to nuzzle her ear. “Or I’ll throw you over my shoulder in the middle of that party and we’ll leave so fast everyone will be talking about it.”

She blinked. Opened her mouth and closed it. Her chest rose and fell as a tantalizing flush spread over her skin. “Okay.”

He released her and stepped back to let her take the last step. Her sandals had fallen to the floor and her lips were back to their natural pink hue.

“You need to bring anything?” he asked.

“Just that bag there by the door.” She pointed to a shopping bag heaped with serving bowls and utensils. “Oh, wait. One more thing.” She turned and ran up the stairs, holding her skirt close to her rear as if to prevent him from peeking. Hell, he would have.

She returned carrying a bulging duffel bag with what looked like a towel peeking from the nearly closed zipper. He raised a brow but didn’t question it, needing to be out of her house ASAP. Any more alone time with her in that dress and he couldn’t be responsible for them going AWOL for the rest of the weekend.

They locked up the house and got into Cruz’s truck. As promised, Rosie kept to general topics. “Okay, so, Brenda’s family will be there. Her mom and the girls, some aunts and uncles. A lot of friends as well. And Ariel’s birthday is in two weeks, so she’s getting a cake.”

“So she’s late on her kick off summer party. But she’s early on her kid’s birthday?”

“Yep.” Rosie tucked that damn flirty skirt tightly around her legs. “She’s kind of a free spirit. And that’s my endearing term for disorganized. Oh, and I hope you don’t mind, but I told her about you...your exoneration.”

He stared at the yellow lane dividers streaking by. “It’s public information.”

“I know. But she didn’t know before I told her. I just…she’s a close friend. I wanted to tell her myself.”

“You don’t need my permission to tell people things that are easily found online.” He draped an arm across the seat, brushing his fingers along her shoulders. “I’m going to operate on the assumption that everyone in this town knows, and no one wants to bring it up.”

She gave a soft laugh. “That’s probably a good way to look at it. Oh, turn here.” She pointed to the right. A little street about a block long stretched out before them. Towering trees lined both sides and their branches arched up to meet in the middle. “Go to the end, and it’s on the right.”

Cruz parked on the street in front of a tidy ranch home. It rambled out to the sides, sprawling and wide, like ranches tended to. White siding, black shutters, a dark red shingled roof gave it a homey appearance. “Cute place.”

Cars lined the curbless road, parked half on the grass, and half on the street. As they exited the car, music and laughter carried on the humid air. “Everyone’s out back,” Rosie said. “She doesn’t have central air.”

Cruz picked up her bag of bowls and the duffel bag. “You need both of these?”

“Um, just that one for now.” She pointed to the bowl bag, eyes dancing with mischief.

“What about this?” He tossed the duffel into the back of the truck.

“I can’t say.” Taunting sexiness dripped form her voice.

“Why not?” He grabbed her around the waist with his free hand.

“I’m not allowed.” She blinked in over-the-top feigned innocence. “I was forbidden to mention it.”

A warning rumble rose in his throat. “Rosie-girl, you are—”

“Rosie!” A woman called from a convertible that was parking behind Cruz’s truck.

Rosie turned to wave. “Hi, Aunt Patty!” She turned to Cruz. “That’s Brenda’s Aunt Patty. Everyone calls her that. She’ll expect you too, as well. And that’s Uncle Steve. But some folks just call him Steve. Wait and see how he introduces himself to you. They’re the sweetest people ever.”

“Got it.” Cruz watched them get out of the bright red car. They could be in their fifties or sixties, judging from the laugh lines that fanned out from their eyes as they approached with smiles. Aunt Patty wore a blue T-shirt with a glittery American flag on it, her short salt and pepper hair teased into a halo around her head. He released Rosie, because this woman had her arms out all ready for a hug even from six steps away.

“It’s good to see you, honey. Tell me you’re making your potato salad.” Aunt Patty embraced Rosie.

“I sure am.”

“Oh good. My day will be complete. Your potato salad. Cake. And those two little girls. Steve, come say hi.”

Steve ambled over and hugged Rosie, then turned to Cruz and extended his hand. “I’m Steve.”

“Cruz.” Cruz shook his hand.

“Cruz is new to Sundown,” Rosie said.

Aunt Patty grabbed his hand and shook it. “Welcome! Sundown is such a special place to live. I’m Aunt Patty. Make sure you call me that, now.” Warmth twinkled in her brown eyes.

“Will do. Nice to meet you,” Cruz said.

They made their way around the side of the house to find dozens of people already in the back yard. Lawn chairs were grouped in clusters all over the grass. Picnic tables with brightly colored plastic tablecloths formed a square at one side of the yard. On the other, people tossed bean bags. “This is more people all in one place than I’ve ever seen here, except for the fair,” Cruz murmured.

“Yeah, Brenda’s parties are quite popular. Oh look, there’s some of your crew. Right?” She nodded to a circle of lawn chairs where Julio sat with their co-worker Carter and several others.

“Well, what do you know? Thought I wouldn’t know anyone but you.”

“You’re a Sundowner now.” She squeezed his hand. “Pretty soon, you’ll never be anywhere in this town where you don’t know someone. Oh, there’s Brenda!”

She pulled him toward her friend, who he couldn’t remember at all from the bar. Was she the one who’d gone home early that one night?

Who knew...after Rosie, everyone else faded like the backdrop scene of a school play. It was there, but you didn’t really notice it. You only saw the star of the show.

“Hello!” Brenda hugged Rosie, then hugged Cruz as well. “Welcome. I don’t know if we actually met officially. I’m Brenda.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“So, get yourself a drink, settle in. I might steal Rosie for a tiny spell.”

“Aunt Rosie!” Two short, shrieking bundles of poufy fabric and sparkles barreled toward them, arms outstretched, and collided with Rosie.

“Oof.” She knelt to hug two girls, one blond and one dark haired, both with crowns and tons of plastic jewelry. “Hi, sweeties!”

“Will you play princesses with us?” The smaller one twirled in a circle.

“I would love to. In a little bit, though, okay?”

“Okay.” The taller one stared at Cruz. “Can he be a prince?”

Rosie’s eyes went as wide as her smile. “Um…”

“Girls. Mr. Cruz is our guest. You need to ask him very nicely if he wants to play. And he might not want to,” Brenda said, then swung her focus to Cruz. “I’m sorry. Didn’t think they’d try to drag you in before you even sat down.”

“It’s okay.” The little munchkins were damn cute.

The dark-haired girl peered up at him with a shy smile. “Will you play with us too? You can be a prince because we don’t have any yet.”

Cruz debated for a half second. But he couldn’t say no to the pint-size girls, whose excitement radiated off them in waves. How bad could it be? “Sure.”

“Yay!” the little blonde cheered.

“In a little while, girls,” Brenda said. “Go on now.”

The girls dashed off to the back of the yard, where a miniature table and chairs and a pink play house sat under a tree.

“That was nice of you,” Rosie murmured.

“You really are a good sport,” Brenda said. “And I’m gonna steal Rosie in like, one minute. But right now I need to make more punch.” She hurried off to the house.

Rosie and Cruz made their way to the drinks table, where she got lemonade. “Looks like I need to help Brenda for a bit.”

He grabbed a beer. “If you’re getting roped into kitchen duty, I’ll hang with the guys. Unless you need someone to make eggs.”

She giggled and took the bag of kitchen stuff. “Eggs at a barbeque would be funny. I’ll let you know. See you in a bit.”

He slid an arm around her waist before she could get away and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Can’t wait.”

A soft sigh escaped through her parted lips. “Me neither.”

Cruz ambled over to the guys as she walked to the house. Carter gave a low whistle. “You and Rosie Marlow?”

“Yep.” Cruz couldn’t stop a grin.

“Nice,” Julio said. “You got her number after all.”

“All the guys had crushes on her in high school,” Carter said. “She was a cheerleader. She tell you that?”

“No.” Cruz got a sudden unbidden image of Rosie in a cheerleader outfit, a tiny skirt covering her sexy ass... Shit. He was barely keeping his dick under control and that didn’t help. “How ‘bout you guys? No dates?”

“No way, man. Single and free.” Carter raised his beer.

“Ditto,” Julio said.

Cruz nodded. He used to feel that way. But life had shifted in the weeks since moving here.

And a certain blonde had made him want to be tied down.

Chapter 20

“I ’m glad you brought Cruz,” Brenda said as she chopped tomatoes for a salsa. “Gosh, he’s taller than I thought. He’s a hottie.”

“Mm-hmm.” Rosie pressed her lips together. Hot didn’t begin to describe Cruz. A walking mountain of muscle and fierceness, soaked in sexual dominance and drizzled with secret sweetness? That might be a start.

“Girl, you’re blushing.” Brenda bumped shoulders with Rosie.

A soft giggle slipped past Rosie’s lips. “He’s just so…” she shook her head. “I don’t have the right words. He’s just amazing.”

Brenda pinned her with a fess up look. “Have you guys…ya know…”

“Mm-hmm,” Rosie repeated, feeling her cheeks go crimson.

“Oh my god! Yes!” Brenda now bumped her hip into Rosie’s. “Good for you, girl.”

Rosie gazed out the window over the sink at Cruz talking with his buddies. The guys on the road crew were all in shape, but even among them, Cruz seemed bigger and more muscular. “He’s nothing like I expected. Not that I knew what to expect. He’s kind of dangerous, and he’s strong and in charge, but sweet too.”

“I guessed the sweet part, if he’s willing to be drafted into royalty duty with my two,” Brenda said. “I’m happy he’s good to you. You look happy.”

Rosie smiled. She was happy. As much as her life would let her. Her secret stood between her and honest, true happiness like an invisible fence, threatening to shock her if she dared cross it. But for today, this weekend, or however long things with Cruz would last like this…she’d be happy. “We might leave early,” she murmured to Brenda.

“Oh?” Brenda dumped her tomatoes into a bowl. “Oh. It’s like that.”

“It’s like that.”

“Shoot girl, I can’t blame you.”

Rosie worked on her potato salad and remembered how Cruz had touched her just a short while ago. His hand on her butt…just thinking about it made her bite her lip. Tonight she had plans for an impromptu outing she doubted he’d been on before. She glanced up again, not seeing him in the circle of chairs with Julio and Carter. But the two guys were laughing, as they looked to—

“Oh my gosh!” Rosie pointed at the window with her mayonnaise-covered spoon.

“Oh no. Those two…” Brenda covered her mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to stifle a giggle.

“Oh my ….” Rosie could only stare at Cruz, who was in the “castle,” as the girls had dubbed the back of their yard. Their playhouse was there, with a “moat” made of seashells bought from the dollar store. An old sheet that they’d painted hung as a backdrop. It started as a mountain scene, but had quickly become a hazy blur of pink and purple sparkly paint.

A kid-size table and chairs sat in front of the moat, and Cruz was about to lower his big frame onto a tiny pink plastic chair. Ariel had a teapot and tea cups in hand.

“I don’t know if I should laugh or rescue him,” Brenda said, hand still over her mouth.

“Your girls are tenacious. I vote for rescue before he ends up with a tiara.” Rosie set her spoon down. “This is done, anyway. I’ll set it on the table.”

“Thank you. I’ll watch the princess show a little longer.” Brenda giggled. “Oh, and can you grab the extra plates and cups by the sliding door and bring them out?”

“Sure.” Rosie walked out of the kitchen into the adjacent family room. Next to the sliding glass door sat a table piled with plasticware. Rosie loaded the stacks of plates and cups in one arm, then reached for the silverware—

“—you see that man out there? Good Lord.”

The voice came from the living room at the front of the house, and Rosie froze, guessing it belonged to Carol Keplinger, one of Sundown’s residents.

“It’s too much. My Joe has his Navy tattoo and I get it and all, but that’s just one! Not all over.”

That would be Carol’s friend and neighbor, Marge.

“I know, and I can’t read that stuff. God knows what it says. And what they all mean. I heard he was in a gang in the city.”

Rosie didn’t move. Barely breathed. Carol and Marge must not realize she was there. Her ire spiked. How dare they?

“I heard he was in prison!” Marge dragged out the last word, saying it with palpable distaste. “For murder!”

“But he was released ‘cause they found out he really didn’t do it,” Carol went on. “But you know, they don’t just stick innocent people in prison. He had to have done something. You know?”

“Mmm-hmm, you’re right. I can’t believe Brenda invited him, and he’s just sitting right there like he’s a regular normal man.”

Carol sighed loudly. “I don’t like it.”

Rosie’s blood heated as the unfairness of their judgment slammed into her. No way. Cruz was a better man than any she had met. Her feet sprang into action, walking her to the arched doorway that opened to the living room. Carol was fixing a stray curl of poufed hair in front of a mirror on the wall, while Marge fanned herself with a magazine. They both turned surprised eyes on Rosie.

“Are you talking about Cruz?” Rosie forced calm into her voice.

“Why…” Carol turned to face her, looking only slightly guilty. “Hi, Rosie. You’re friends with him?”

Friends. Sure. That’s all these two needed to know. “Yes.”

“Well, we’re just kinda worried. I mean, for ten years he’s been in prison.”

“Serving time for something he didn’t do. He’s innocent.” Rosie glared.

Marge gave her a near-pitying look. “Oh sweetie, we know that’s what the papers say, but you can’t be too careful. Who knows what things he learned in jail? I bet he could kill a man with his bare hands.”

“Marge!” Even Carol looked aghast.

Rosie counted to ten in her mind because yeah, given what she’d seen of Cruz fighting, she wouldn’t be surprised.

She also never felt safer than when he was around. Confrontations weren’t her thing, but she couldn’t stand by and let Cruz be judged on his appearance and his past. She didn’t care if she came across as a bitch. “You two need to stop. He’s a good man who works his ass off on Palmer’s crew every day.”

Carol tilted her head. “Rosie…”

“Shane’s met him. Denver too.” She may as well toss that in. Shane was a living legend in Sundown. Everyone respected him. “Get to know a man before you start saying nasty things and spreading rumors.” She turned on her heel and walked out before she said anything more. She didn’t trust herself when she got emotional. She tended to talk way too much.

Carol and Marge didn’t deserve more of her time and words. Not now, at Brenda’s party where her two little princesses could only see Cruz as a prince.

Prince, knight, hero—all titles he would shun, but that in her mind, he wholeheartedly deserved. She blew out a breath as she stepped into the sunny yard. Country music played on the radio and all the guests had drinks in their hands. Uncle Steve was working at the gas grill. Rosie beelined for a rectangular table covered in a red and white checked cloth and set down her things. This day was going to be good, and tonight was going to be even better.

She wasn’t going to let the negative nellies get in the way. Hands now free, she threaded through the crowd, stopping by Julio and Carter, who sat smirking in the direction of the girls and Cruz. “Bet you two didn’t even try to help him out.”

“Hey, who am I to deny two little ladies?” Julio shrugged.

Carter just laughed. “This is some funny shit. And I had to do this last summer.”

“You did not, that was Matt who they kidnapped to play their game,” Julio shot back.

“And notice he’s not here this year.” Carter arched a brow.

“Well, I’m gonna rescue him,” Rosie said.

She walked past the jumble of other guests, some sitting, some standing. Ninety-nine percent of them she knew, and gave passing hellos and excuses as she neared the pretend castle.

Stepping close, she cleared her throat and put on her queen voice. “And what, pray tell, is going on, princesses?”

“Oh, oh! Aunt—I mean, Queen Rosie, look! A prince is visiting from a faraway land. We must let him stay with us,” Ariel said.

“It’s the rules,” Iris added.

“A faraway land?” Rosie tapped a finger on her chin. “Well, we must certainly be good hostesses and make him comfortable after his long journey.”

“He should get a big bed! A giant one!” Iris said. “The kind princes sleep in.”

Cruz arched a brow. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

“Where’s your crown?” Iris demanded.

“I…left it at home.” Cruz pinned Rosie with heated eyes. “On my bed, I believe. My very big bed.”

“Of course.” Rosie’s cheeks warmed and she thanked the stars that the girls didn’t pick up on their carnal undercurrent. “Girls, princes don’t wear their crowns while traveling. They could fall off during battle with evil swordsmen or get lost in the dangerous woods.”

“That’s okay, we have extras!” Ariel exclaimed, and ducked into the play house.

“Do you have a horse? Iris asked dreamily. “I want a horse but Mommy says they eat too much.”

Cruz gave the four-year-old such a serious and patient look that Rosie wanted to melt. “I do. He’s big and black and eats a ton.”

“Here you go!” Ariel burst out of the tiny purple door, brandishing a silver tiara. “It has the least sparkles on it, because you’re a boy. We don’t have any boy crowns.” She held it aloft.

Rosie was sure she planned to stick it on Cruz’s head. “Princess Ariel, that is very kind of you. But perhaps our visitor would like food and drink first. He’s had a long journey.”

“He can eat and wear a crown at the same time,” Ariel said.

Rosie knew that determined expression. Someone was going to end up wearing the crown and she wasn’t going to make Cruz suffer that fate. “May I wear it? I will need your expertise to attach it to my tresses.”

“Okay!” Ariel shouted.

“What are tresses?” Iris asked.

“It’s her long, beautiful hair.” Ariel very seriously grabbed a couple glittery hair clips. “Queen Rosie, you must sit down so I can put your crown on.”

Rosie sat in the tiny chair across the plastic table from Cruz. Slate blue eyes regarded her with a mix of humor, hunger, and something else she couldn’t put her finger on.

“You’re a natural, Queen Rosie,” he murmured softly. “And you have good timing.”

Tiny fingers worked on her hair. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“I think you should be a king instead of a prince.” Iris crowded close to Cruz and leaned on his shoulder. “Then you can marry Queen Rosie. No one married her yet.”

Rosie coughed and wanted to crawl under her chair.

Cruz raised a brow at her and then looked seriously at Iris. “Is that so?”

“Nope.” Iris shook her blond curls. “You can do it.”

Oh my god. Mortification didn’t begin to describe this.

With a last push on the tiara, Ariel finished. “Yes! Let’s make him a king and then we can have a royal wedding!”

Rosie’s eyes widened. “Oh, my goodness. That is…”

Cruz grinned. “And here all I thought I was gettin’ was a comfortable bed. Didn’t know there was more.”

“You need a white dress and a very special crown,” Ariel said.

“And a veil that’s as long as the yard!” Iris shrieked.

Rosie could see the wheels in the girls’ heads turning. Oh, boy. This wasn’t how she expected today’s make-believe adventure to go. “Princesses, the king and I shall have dinner now. We will discuss your idea. But please remember, these arrangements take a long time.”

“Okaaay.” Both girls dragged out the word, somehow managing to combine their disappointment at play time ending and excitement at a pending wedding all into one word.

Cruz rose from his tiny pink chair and offered his arm. “May I escort you to the banquet table, my lady?”

“Ooohhhh,” Iris sighed.

“That would be delightful, kind sir.” Rosie stood and took his arm. Her body hummed with a mix of mortification from him being subjected to the girls’ whims, and wanting to collapse into a fit of giggles. And being completely turned on by the touch of his skin on hers. “Oh my goodness,” she whispered as they walked away.

“I never thought two tiny girls could be so determined.” His voice rumbled all around her. He released her hand only to slide his around her waist and pull her close.

She turned to gaze up into those slate blue eyes, embarrassment over the girls’ arranged marriage idea quickly morphing into pure delight that she was here with the sexiest, strongest man she’d ever met and he was treating her like, well, a princess. “I had to rescue you before you ended up with a crown or something pink.”

He glanced at the tiara on her head. “It’s better on you.” Abruptly his hand tightened on her hip and he stopped them on the lawn. “But your cowboy hat would look even better.”

She sucked in a breath, wanting nothing more than to leave this party right now. “Umm.” Yeah, he liked her hat. Memories of the raw hunger in his eyes when she’d shown it to him rushed back. She still couldn’t believe she had this effect on him, when he was the one unraveling every logical thought she ever had. “You’re bad,” she whispered.

“And you’re sexy,” he rumbled into her ear. “Let’s eat so we can get the hell out of here. And get to your secret plan.”

Oh god, her plan for later. That made her hot all over again. “Okay.” Why did he undo her so badly that all she could manage was one syllable words?

He was an irresistible force. A storm she’d walk into and gladly get herself soaked to the bone. No other way to explain it. Somehow, he’d gotten under her skin and she knew she’d never be the same.

Chapter 21

Cruz was vaguely aware of going through the motions of eating dinner. Someone had grilled hamburgers and hot dogs, but he had no idea who. His friends talked. Cake was handed out. The two girls ran all over the place with some other little kids who came over, resulting in more streaks of pink and glitter zooming through the crowd. Townspeople introduced themselves to him and chatted back and forth.

But his brain systematically blocked each and every little thing out.

Except for Rosie.

She’d discreetly ditched the crown at some point and twisted her hair up into a messy bun, baring her neck and unwittingly stoking his temptation. He’d touched her as often as he could without being inappropriate. He couldn’t stop looking at her in that damn little dress, covering up the essentials but showing off her toned little body. He couldn’t help it. Their barely contained sex vibe was killing him. Thinking about her in her cowboy hat was killing him. From the minute he’d seen her at the house to now, where she scooted close on a picnic table bench.

Someone pointed out the colors in the sky, where the sun made steady progress toward kissing the horizon, and he’d had about all he could take. He laid a hand on Rosie’s knee. “Ready to get out of here?”

“Yes.” She set her soft hand on top of his. “Let’s say goodbye to Brenda and the girls.”

They found the girls first, in a circle of chairs with their friends, explaining how to eat their ice cream cones like princesses. Half of them had as much on their faces as in their cones.

Rosie knelt in front of Ariel and Iris. “We’re going home now. Be good for the rest of the night.”

“We get to stay up late.” Iris grinned like it was Christmas in June.

Ariel looked past Rosie to Cruz. “Thanks for being a prince. Can you come back?”

“I’d love to,” Cruz said. How could he say no? He’d never spent much time around kids. He had no nieces or nephews. But something about Rosie and these two had seemed so natural and he’d had zero trouble playing along.

And that was something he honestly never thought about before. His Rosie kept surprising him.

Both girls got down to hug Rosie. She kissed each one’s head and stood. “Bye, girls.”

“Bye!” they called out in voices hyped up on sugar and defying sleep.

They found Brenda, sitting down for what seemed to be the first time that Cruz had seen. She got up and hugged them both. “Thanks for coming, and not minding being dragged into being king and queen.”

“It all worked out fine. I’ll see you soon,” Rosie said. She slid a glance to Cruz and reached for his hand.

He let her lead him through the dozens of people still hanging out, around to the front where the smokers had congregated. More waves and goodbyes were shared. Finally, they got to the quiet enclosed space of his truck. When they were both inside, he leaned over and traced one finger down the column of her neck. “If not for those smokers right there, I’d have kissed you silly up against my truck. And if not for them still watching us, I’d do it right here.”

Her breath hitched. “You’re making me insane.”

“Riled up?”

“Hot.” Blue eyes met his in the last rays of daylight. “I need you to put this truck in gear and head back like you’re going to my house. Except we’re gonna turn before that.”

He pulled his hand away slowly, lingering over her shoulder and upper arm. Starting the truck, he maneuvered out of his spot and followed her instructions, laying a hand on her thigh. “More unmarked roads?”

“Yep.”

He skimmed his hand up her leg, testing her. Her skin was silky soft and warm despite the air conditioning he’d cranked. “So where are we going?”

She shifted in her seat, letting out a sigh. “You expect me to talk when you’re touchin’ me like that?”

He arched a brow. “If it’ll make you talk in that cute-ass drawl, then yeah.” He stroked higher, nearing the juncture of her thighs. “So…where’d you say we were going?”

“Um…” A heated sigh. “Somewhere cool. It was so hot today.” She glanced out the window as he made a turn. “Okay, at the next mile marker turn right.”

“That mile marker can’t come soon enough,” Cruz muttered. When the green sign popped into view, he angled the truck onto a dirt road that led into a thickly wooded area. He eyed Rosie. “Where you takin’ me, woman?”

She turned to face him. “Got any guesses?”

He shook his head. “No clue.”

Pushing up in her seat, she scooted so she was leaning way over the console and her lips brushed his ear. “We’re goin’ to Little Potato Creek,” she murmured.

Her voice sent shots of lust through his torso. “Night fishing?”

“Nope.” She kissed his neck, just below his ear. “We’re goin’ skinny dippin’.”

Cruz’s breath locked in his lungs. His foot involuntarily smashed down the brake pedal. As if Rosie’s sexy voice and soft skin were already pushing him to the brink, her words were a final kick.

“What?” he growled as his truck lurched to a halt in the middle of the road.

“I think you heard me.” She dropped slow, slick kisses along his neck.

Cruz’s brain short circuited. Fireworks, bombs, shrapnel—it was nothing compared to Rosie’s assault by liquid tease. His cock throbbed in the confines of his shorts. He hooked a hand around her shoulder and pulled her sweet, sinful mouth away while he had one ounce of sanity left. “Christ, woman.”

“Just a little farther,” she whispered, tracing a finger down his bicep.

Her touch was fire. Even on his damn arm, the light scrape of her fingernails made his cock twitch.

He forced himself to keep driving forward through the dense trees. “Where?” His voice was a rough growl.

She peered down the road ahead. “Up there past those evergreen trees there’s a little spot—okay, here.” She pointed to a gap in the trees big enough to stow the truck.

Then she unbuttoned the first two buttons of her dress.

“Fuck, Rosie.” Cruz’s mind hazed over at the damn fabric hanging open, revealing the tops of her perfect tits.

“Yeah, I planned on that.” She was back at his ear, breath tickling.

A rumble that sounded more animal than human rose from his chest. Somehow he managed to throw the thing in park and turn it off. Hauling her mouth to his, he kissed her with savage hunger. She’d stoked every nerve and fired every level of his need, past the point of caution, logic, sanity, gentleness.

She squeaked as he bit her lip. He reached around to grab her ass, yanking at the filmy cotton that covered her. Soft smooth cheeks met his palm. Sexy skin that he massaged, working his hand under her thong. He teased a finger along the seam of her ass. Then he smacked her, hard.

She gasped.

He tore his mouth away. “Out.” He pushed open his own door and hustled around to her side, as best he could with his dick rock hard in his pants.

Rosie slid out of her seat to stand before him. Sexy, flushed, breathing hard. And with two more buttons undone. Fuck him.

He pulled her to the side and closed her door, then shoved her against it. Grabbing her wrists, he pinned them above her head with one of his hands.

Her chest heaved. She bit her lip. Hell. He lowered his head for a kiss, gentling it a fraction because he had her where he wanted her. She wasn’t going anywhere and she was finally all his for the night. Sexy Rosie. With his free hand, he palmed one ripe breast. She still had her bra on. He slipped a finger just under the top edge. “This needs to go.”

She whimpered and wriggled. “You’re holding me.”

He released her and traced the neckline of her dress—or where it would have been, if it wasn’t half undone. Rounded fullness swelled under his hands. Curves he would taste, but later. His fingers decimated the rest of her buttons. “I want you naked. Now.”

She pulled the dress over her head faster than he could blink. Standing there in her bra and panties, leaning on his truck…the thought flashed in his head that he never wanted this to change. Her, like this, with him. All the damn time.

But then her hands went behind her back. The silk of her bra loosened and fell, slowly dragging down over the jut of her breasts, revealing skin he wanted to kiss every day. Her pink nipples hardened, begging for his touch. Next she undid the bun of her hair, setting waves free to cascade around her.

But he forced himself to make her feel as insane as he did. Moving away from her round breasts and perked nipples, he slid a finger under the edge of her panties, at her hip. “This too.”

“You don’t wanna get undressed by the water?” her voice husked, driving his lust as she hooked her thumbs under the straps at her hips.

“We’re not gonna make it to the water, babe.” He yanked his T-shirt over his head as she shimmed out of that thong.

God, she was beautiful. Did she even know how much? He vowed to savor her later. For now, his lust was wildly out of control. She pushed too far. And if this was her idea of teasing, taunting, pushing—she could do it every damn night. He’d be on board.

He threaded one hand to her nape and pushed her back to the warm steel of his truck. With a firm grip on her hair, he kissed her.

He devoured her mouth. Her body was hot against his and her hands roamed his shoulders, his back, like she couldn’t get enough. He dragged his free hand up her hip on a slow path to her nipple. He’d observed enough about her already to remember how sensitive she was there.

She shivered, though the night was still fucking humid. He stopped at the lower curve of her breast.

“Cruz,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” He didn’t move his hand. Instead he sucked at the spot where her shoulder met her neck.

“I…touch me,” she murmured like she could barely get the words out. “Please.”

He raised his hand slowly, skimming his palm over her tip.

She gasped. “God, yes.”

He repeated it on the other side. She was panting now. He pulled back to just look at her, so out of control. He’d take a mental snapshot and remember this for a long time. His sexy country girl, about to lose her mind. About to let him fuck her up against his truck in the middle of the damn woods.

Abruptly he dropped his hand to the vee of her thighs. A moan tore from her throat. He slid his fingers lower, finding the slick evidence of her readiness for him. “So fucking wet,” he murmured, stroking her body back and forth. “You’re ready for me.”

“Yes,” she said, though he hadn’t asked a question.

He grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a condom. Holding it in his teeth, he made quick work of his belt and zipper.

She stared at his erection pushing against his boxer briefs. She flicked her eyes to his, then dragged her hands down his sides. She gripped the top edge of his underwear in her slender fingers, and tugged down. Inch by sensual inch. She gazed at him as if she were opening a present. The top of his shaft was exposed and she traced a finger along where it met his groin.

“One day Cruz, this won’t be my finger.” A stroke, light as air but heavy with promise. A rumble built in his throat. She was playing with fire. “It’ll be my mouth.”

His vision hazed and he freed his aching cock. Who would have ever thought sweet Rosie would be the queen of dirty talk? He couldn’t even wrap his head around all the nuances of her. He fell in deeper every time they came together.

He tore open the condom and rolled it on. Setting his hands on her hips, he lifted her up and leveraged her against the truck. She clutched his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his hips.

His cock bumped her heated flesh, making them both groan. “Rosie,” he growled, and positioned himself at her entrance. With aching slowness he slid her down.

She closed her eyes and blew out a breath. “Feels so good, baby.”

And why did her calling him baby feel so damn right? Hell.

He pushed up until he was balls deep in her sweetness. Nothing had felt this good, this wild before. He needed more, needed her, all of her, like he needed to breathe. He withdrew almost all the way and then sank deep again with a hard thrust.

Her body slammed against his truck. But she held his shoulders and scratched along his neck, tracing a path into his hair.

He plunged out and in again. Her breasts bounced, and he knew she’d get hotter if he played with them. With one hand under her ass, he brought the other up to tug one taut tip. Her lips parted on a soft sigh.

He couldn’t stop his rhythm if he wanted to. Her pussy milked him, every part of her squeezing him in a sultry heat. And her face—god, what had she said about not having a poker face? A myriad of expressions crossed her face: lust, surprise, need, delight.

Glancing down to their connection, he was fascinated by how her body took all of him. She maintained her hold on his shoulders and worked her hips, her face a mix of concentration and sex glow.

He dropped his hand to her mound, inching lower. She gasped, but her jaw dropped. “God, Cruz,” she moaned.

His fingers slinked lower, getting slick between her legs. He stroked her clit as he thrust inside her. Tiny sweet moans fell from her lips and she moved with him, rocking, pushing down on him. “I’m close,” she whispered around thrusts.

“Me too, babe. Hang on.” He gripped her ass tightly and unleashed the reins of his lust, pumping as hard and fast as he could. Every stroke only intensified the sensation, bringing him closer to orgasm. And at the same time the knowledge lurked that this was different. She was different.

She gasped and her body quivered as she came, legs trembling and hips grinding. Clutching his neck, she leaned in to bite his shoulder.

Fuck. No one had ever bitten his shoulder.

She raised her head and licked beneath his ear. “You wanna come, Cruz? Fuck me hard, baby. Just like tha—”

With a growl, he exploded inside her. His hips jerked over and over, pistoning up hard as he held her in place on his cock. Thrust after thrust, he kept going until he was finally spent.

He leaned against her, pressing her to the truck, and fought for air. She’d stolen his breath. She may have stolen more.

She panted with her head thrown back and eyes shut. Strands of hair stuck to her neck, where a sheen of sweat glistened. Every subtlety of her skin was beautiful, from the dip between her collarbones, to her pouty lips. All he could do was stare. The soft fullness of her breasts snuggled against his pecs. Her legs were starting to lose their grip on his hips. He didn’t want to pull out of her yet. Even though they were done, she still felt so good around him.

He adjusted her, shifting her higher.

Blue eyes opened to regard him with a mix of wonder and absolute satisfaction. She didn’t say a word, didn’t have to. Just leaned in to kiss him with the same slow sweet kisses she’d gifted his neck.

It felt more damn right than anything had felt in his life for a long time. Coming here to Sundown had been a whim, something he could easily back out of. The rented house, the physical labor job—he was willing to work his ass off anywhere in the country. If this had been a shit decision, he’d be gone overnight, no questions asked and no regrets.

But meeting Rosie had fundamentally changed that plan. Because there was no “easily backing out.” It simply didn’t exist. In a short time, he had grown way too used to her cute drawl and those fathomless blue eyes. He still had questions he wanted to ask, because she carried something that haunted her. He hated that. A voice thundered in his head, urging him to carry whatever that was. Whatever burden she felt was so heavy that she kept it locked up tight except for the times it forced its shadowed way into her eyes.

Outside of the women in his family, he’d never wanted to bear anyone’s burden.

Her mouth moved against his, brushing softly, licking gently at his lips. She pulled back, tilted her head like she was about to say something. Then she caught the look he must have on his face, the one where he was thinking she’d changed everything. “What?” she asked.

I’m never gonna let you go. But he pushed away the sappy, possessive thought. Was she ready to hear it?

And the bigger question—was she ready to let him in?

He didn’t know. So he defaulted to the obvious. “You’re hot, Rosie-girl.” He rocked her once on his cock, still semi hard inside her. “I’ve never done this before.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Never done which part?”

“Had sex up against a car.”

She giggled. “Me neither. Let’s do it again sometime.”

“That’d be a hell yes, woman.”

“You wanna go get in the water? We’re both sweaty.”

And the firsts kept on rolling with her. “I’ve never done that before either.”

“What? You’ve never skinny dipped?”

“Nope.” He frowned. “Not that many places to do it, I guess.”

“There’s gotta be some.”

“Yeah, and the water’d be disgusting. Plus there’s a hell of a lot more lights up there.”

“True.” She idly ran her fingers through his hair. “In my bag that I was not allowed to speak about…” she aimed a sly glance to the truck bed. “There’s a flashlight and towels.”

So that’s what the towels were for. “I’ll grab it. Don’t wanna set you down though.”

“Mmm, me neither. But you can just pick me up again in the water.”

Slowly, he pulled out of her and set her on her feet, still in her sandals. He pulled the condom off and balled it up in a wad of spare napkins from the glovebox. He pulled up the clothing that had fallen to his ankles, and grabbed Rosie’s bag. He eyed his truck as she grabbed her clothing from the ground. “No one will think we got stranded and come looking for us?”

“Nah. This is kind of …well…” She tilted her head and shrugged.

He guessed the direction of her thought. “The local skinny dipping spot?”

She laughed. “Yeah. I’m betting if anyone drives by, and if they see your car, they’ll just keep on going.”

“Good enough, or else they’ll get a show.” He locked it and followed her into the trees.

Chapter 22

Cool water lapped at Rosie’s back in the still inlet of Little Potato Creek, a contrast to the warmth of Cruz’s arms holding her. With her legs around his waist, she was at eye level with him. She toyed with his hair, running her fingers through it and pulling the strands up into spikes. The moon had waned down to a sliver that shrouded them in near-darkness. Only the dense canopy of stars shone above.

“This is different,” Cruz said. “Not walking on a concrete pool floor.”

“You’ve been missing out.”

“Hell, yes. In a lot of ways. And what’s that sound?” He frowned. “Insects?”

He was so cute. “Those are frogs, city boy.” She added extra drawl to emphasize what he clearly didn’t grow up with. “Sometimes they sing all night, up in the trees.”

“Huh.” He turned them around in the water, alternately looking at her and scanning the banks. “So the guys told me something about you.”

“What?” Uh oh. A flicker of worry flared, but the teasing note in his voice calmed her down.

“They said,” he stroked a hand across her hip, under the water, “you used to be a cheerleader.”

“Oh my gosh. It’s true.”

“That’s hot. You still have your uniform?”

‘Umm, no.” She traced a finger along his jaw. “Why, you wanna see me in it?”

“That might be every guy’s fantasy. Especially if you don’t wear panties.” Quick as a wink, he took her finger in his mouth and swirled his tongue over the tip.

She sucked in a breath at the hot tease. “You’re bad. And anyway, there’s a different item up next on the dress up agenda.”

He released her finger with a pop. “I’m up for that, any time you want.”

“Me too,” she whispered. In the barely there light, she could just make out tiny droplets on his tattooed shoulders. He was sculpted, strong. Hard, but not hardened, like she imagined many men would be in his circumstances.

Could she ever be this strong? She’d never thought she could be…but she’d never met anyone who’d been through such back-breaking injustice. Maybe, if he could find a way to push through it, she could too. One day.

“Tell me more about you.” Rumbled words broke into her reverie. Did he always know when her mind went to that sad and hopeless place?

“I told you, there’s not much to know.” Soft words uttered. A lie. Even she was starting to doubt them.

“I didn’t know you were a cheerleader.” He rotated them again. “Did you play sports?”

“Pfft, no. I was terrible at the whole hand-eye coordination thing. Cheer was the closest I could get.”

“What else?” He leaned in to kiss her neck.

“I can cook a mean batch of French toast.” She melted into his hold, tilting her head to allow him her whole neck.

He straightened. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“That’s my favorite. I’m putting that in for the official breakfast request tomorrow morning.”

“Keep kissing me and I’ll make it.” A low purr stirred in her throat. “I think I have all the fixin’s.”

But he didn’t keep kissing her. She pouted and glanced at him…and oh god. He was giving her that look. He’d already done it once that night. That look that said he saw more in her than he should. More than what she could give him. His eyes pierced her with an intense glow that unnerved her as much as it made her feel safe. “What’s that look for?” she whispered.

“I like looking at you, Rosie-girl,” he murmured. “I plan to keep on doing it. That okay with you?”

“Sure.” The word left her lips, born on the beat of her heart, before the logic of her brain could stop it. He was irresistible and her body wanted more and more of him.

“I’m serious, Rosie. I don’t want you skinny dipping with anyone else. Putting on dresses like tonight for anyone but me.”

“I don’t want to either, Cruz. I don’t want to share you.” That was the truth. The selfish, parts-omitted truth. It would break her heart to see his arm around another girl. To look at another woman with those slate blue eyes full of desire and promise.

“Good.” His kiss stopped her thoughts, bringing her back to right now and his strong body clasping her tight. He nipped at her lip, the bite of his teeth such a delicious contrast to his soft lips. One hand drifted to her belly, moving up in a slow tortuous path.

God, he already knew how to make her crazy. Her mind couldn’t even wrap around all the things he would probably do to her. She was ready for all of it.

His hand covered her breast, wet fingers rubbing her skin in a stroke that heightened everything. She tightened her legs around him, blocking out all but his touch. He was what mattered.

The sudden flap of wings overhead had them both glancing up. A soft thud, and a scrape of twigs were the only sounds to accompany the quiet creek. “What the…“ Cruz frowned.

A gray-brown feather drifted down to land on the water’s surface. “Owl,” Rosie murmured. “He probably just found dinner.”

“An owl.” Cruz shook his head. “This place is something else.”

“You’re something else.” She traced a dark swirl on his bicep.

“Let’s go back to your house. I’ll get you in the shower and wash all this creek water off you.” A devilish grin flickered in his eyes.

“You just wanna get me in the shower, period.” She kissed his shoulder.

“Hell, yeah. That’s only for starters.” He shifted her higher. “And let’s get your sweet ass moving before you get me too hard to walk.”

“Okay.” She held on as he walked them to the bank. “But you know I’ll take care of you.”

He growled as he climbed out of the creek and set her down. She pulled their towels from her bag and handed one to him, but not before noticing his cock, semi hard and dripping with creek water. Oh god. He was temptation in its purest form.

He rubbed the towel over his hair and stared at her like she was his prey. “Let’s go, baby. One more second and we aren’t getting back to your place for another hour.”

She wrapped herself up in her towel and grabbed the flashlight, wanting nothing more than to get him in her house, in her shower, in her bed. In her life.

Chapter 23

For Rosie, the next weeks flew by in a sweet haze of work and Cruz, Cruz and work. He spent all his nights at her house, exhausting her into blissful sleep. Though their schedules didn’t always align, and sometimes they only had a few minutes together before she had to work at the Grille.

But coming home after a long shift, with Cruz naked in her bed? That, she was already used to. That, she never wanted to give up.

And the mornings when he had to be at a job site at seven am and woke her up to say good morning…in the sexiest of ways.

Like right now. The sun was a bright slash in the east as his hand cupped her bottom under the cool cotton sheet. His touch stirred her to full consciousness, every nerve sparking to life. His hand crept lower, between her legs.

Her back was to his chest and she reached around, finding his heavy erection. It never failed to amaze and delight her how often he woke up this way. She grasped the hard steel of his shaft and stroked, making him hiss out a hot breath against her shoulder. She tried to turn over to face him, but he stopped her.

“Stay where you are, baby.” He pulled her leg back, over his hip, and his big warm hand covered her pussy.

She gasped as his fingers flexed, creating just enough pressure on her clit to make her moan. He flexed his hips into her, but she didn’t want to let go of his big perfect cock. He grunted and bit gently on her shoulder.

Next his hand came up to cup one breast, then the other. She closed her eyes, blocking out everything except his body touching hers. She gave up her hold on him, shifting her ass to rub against his groin.

“Fuck, baby,” he said softly. He pulled back and then pressed close again, and this time his cock was between her legs. The thick length lay against her hot flesh and when he flexed, the tip brushed her clit in a lightning bolt of sensation.

“Cruz,” she moaned. He was right there, so close. Her hips rocked. “I’m ready.”

Cool air met her back as he paused and half turned. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” She could barely talk, with need firing her body.

“Out of condoms up here. God dammit. I have some in my wallet, but it’s downstairs.” He tensed like he was going to get up.

“Wait.” She twisted toward him. “Don’t go. Let’s not use one.”

He studied her with eyes so serious she could melt. “You sure?”

She nodded. “You know I can’t get pregnant. And I haven’t been with anyone else in years. It’s okay.”

“And I’m clean.” He lowered back down to nibble her ear. “God, baby I’ve been wanting to feel you, all of you. No barriers. Just your hot pussy gripping my cock.”

His words sent a fresh rush of liquid heat between her thighs and she reached down to position him at her entrance. He slid in with a soft curse. “Fuck, you feel amazing.” He rolled her toward him and slipped his arm under her ribs. With his other hand he pulled her leg farther across his hips, getting her at the angle he wanted, he began a deep thrusting rhythm.

Logically, she knew condoms were super thin and things shouldn’t feel that different, but it did. He did. Every ridge rubbed against her inner walls in a sensual pumping motion that she never wanted to stop.

He moved faster, hips rocking harder. Her breasts bounced, and his hand cupped and squeezed, moving from one to the other. His rough fingertips rolled her nipples and his other hand dipped to massage her clit.

She panted as he worked her, keeping up his constant, everywhere touch, his hips slamming now with his own urgency. His breath was hot on her neck. His hands were magic. Her core was wet and aching as he pushed her higher.

With a gasp, she came. She reached around to hold onto him, his hip, his ass, anywhere she could reach, to keep him thrusting deep. “Cruz!” she squeaked as her body trembled.

His hands tightened on her, locking her in place as he let out a growl and drove deeper than he ever had. Her eyes widened at the delicious pressure, then at the hot slickness that filled her. He kept thrusting through his orgasm until he finally stopped, lodged deep.

“Holy fuck, Rosie.” His breath was choppy. “Christ, you feel incredible.” He started moving in and out again. “Just feeling you. Nothing between us. Fucking incredible.”

He was incredible. Sudden tears sprang to her eyes and she hastily tried to dash them away before he noticed. How had this perfect man walked into her life? It was too much, and her heart swelled and threatened to crack. She was falling hard.

But of course, he did notice. “Hey. What’s this?”

She smiled through it. “Just …you’re so amazing. I can’t believe you walked into my life.” That was the truth. That was safe to say.

“Me too.” One tear sneaked down her cheek toward her jaw, and he stopped it with a kiss. “I love being here with you. You showing me all the stuff I’ve been missing about country life. I’m not going anywhere.”

His sweetness was too much. “For now, though, you sexy man with your cock still inside me…” She traced the sweeping tendrils of ink on his arm as he rumbled a warning. “You better get to work before you’re late.”

“Shit, woman, it gets harder to leave you every damn day.” He dropped his head to her shoulder and kissed a line down her arm. “Thank god I got a holiday coming up at the end of the week.”

“That’s right.” The Fourth of July was on Friday, and she couldn’t wait for the three-day weekend. “Let’s do something special.”

“Like what?”

“Let’s go dancing.”

He shot her a quizzical look. “Where?”

“There’s a bar in Murphysboro. They have a big dance floor. I promise I won’t make you line dance.”

“I’d step on your toes if I tried.”

“Hmm, I can either wear a dress or shorts with my cowboy boots…” She ran her fingers through his hair.

“Either way, from the moment we leave I’m going to want to get you back here.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“All righty then, you think on it.” She grinned. “I’m gonna get another hour of beauty sleep.”

“You don’t need it. The beauty part.” He slowly pulled out of her and moved off the bed. “Sleep? Yeah, I may’ve tired you out.” Dropping a kiss on her shoulder, he pulled the sheet up over her and headed into the bathroom.

From her vantage point on the pillow, she watched him walk that fine naked ass into her bathroom, then closed her eyes. Sated bliss swamped her and she clung to it as fiercely as she clung to his declaration that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Chapter 24

The heat and humidity hadn’t let up all week, and as Rosie and Cruz walked hand and hand into the bar in Murphysboro, she welcomed the blast of air conditioning. “Oooh, that feels good.” She shook out her hair as they showed their IDs to the guy at the door. The bouncer handed Rosie’s license back with a smile. “Have a nice night, miss.”

He kept his face impassive as he examined Cruz’s, then gave it back. “You’re good.”

Cruz laid a hand at the small of her back. “He thinks you’re hot.”

“Pfft. He didn’t say that.”

Loud, fast-paced country music blared as they entered the spacious main room. Neon beer signs flickered next to wagon wheels attached to the walls. “He didn’t have to. I know it. It’s a guy thing.”

“I don’t care about any other guys but you.” She hooked a finger into his belt loop.

“Good.” He scanned the tables ringing a large dance floor. “I’ll have to punch anyone who hits on you. I’m beginning to think I shoulda requested your shorts.”

She’d worn a red halter style dress—his choice, after she showed him her clothing options. It hugged her waist and flared out over her hips, ending just above her knees. As soon as she’d put it on, his eyes had turned predatory. She’d left her hair loose because she knew how much Cruz liked it.

“Next time,” she murmured as he guided them to a tall table near the bar.

Cruz scooted her chair in. “Want anything to drink?”

She paused. She rarely drank. She hadn’t sworn off alcohol after her accident, but it often left a bitter taste in her mouth, both literally and figuratively. It reminded her of losing control and that terrified her. Once in a while, she had a glass of wine to celebrate something. And tonight, she was willing to celebrate the wonderful last few months with Cruz. She wasn’t worried about losing control, and if she got a little tipsy, she trusted him implicitly. Nothing would happen to her, not when he was around. “White wine. Pinot Grigio?”

“You got it.” He left, and since the bar wasn’t crowded yet, he was back in a minute. He set his draft beer and her wine down, and settled on the chair next to her. Not opposite her.

She smiled. “We have this one cute old couple who comes into the Grille every Sunday for supper, and they sit on the same side of the booth. Never seen ‘em sit across from each other.”

“Yeah?” He locked those slate eyes on her in a gaze that stole her breath. More intense than his usual. “Now that’s something to aim for.”

Something in the way he said it…or rather, what he left unsaid, made her whole world slow down. She’d meant her comment to be a casual one, but in a heartbeat it morphed into a deeper insinuation. He made her want to crawl into his lap and never leave. He also made her feel that she should be strong enough to be honest and spill every detail of her life.

But she couldn’t do either, caught in the orbit of his stare. “Yeah.” She smiled and swung her attention to the front door where a dozen girls had burst in, one of whom wore a short veil. “Oh wow, it’s a bachelorette party.”

He spared them a short glance, then refocused on her. “Good for them. There’s only one girl I wanna look at.”

She smiled and sipped her wine, letting the fruity taste slide down her throat. The music changed to a slower song, one she loved. The dance floor cleared of all the single girls and a few couples meandered to the center.

“Wanna dance?” Cruz asked.

How could she say no? She smiled and took his hand.

He led her to the center of the dance floor, wrapping his arms around her waist. She linked her hands behind his neck. He’d worn a plaid button down short sleeve shirt. The button he left undone revealed a tan triangle of skin she wanted to kiss. A tendril of ink peeked along the lower part, part of the words that had symbolized the bleakness of his life, before.

Before he’d done a crazy thing like thrown a dart at a map and moved here.

The serendipity of it stole her breath. “I’m so lucky to be here with you,” she said softly.

“I’m the lucky one, pretty girl. Didn’t know what to expect, coming to the south.”

She giggled. “You could’ve ended up in the bayou, with gators and all.”

“I’ll take the wildlife here, thank you very much.” He ran a hand up her back, part of which was bared by the dress. They rocked slowly, pressed together from hip to chest, and she didn’t know when she’d ever felt this content. “Damn,” he murmured.

“What?”

“Is this singer in my brain, or what?” Cruz shook his head. “I swear he said he wanted to get his girl undressed and out of this place.”

“It’s by Michael Ray. He’s awesome.” She scratched her nails lightly on his neck.

“Dude knows his shit,” Cruz muttered.

“Are you turning into a country music fan?” She grinned.

“Can’t help it, when it’s everywhere down here.” He held onto her as the song ended and another slow one started. They stayed on the dance floor for two more slow songs. Rosie just breathed in his delicious masculine scent and let him hold her. She could stay locked in this bubble forever. Just the two of them, dancing here all dressed up. Or just them, in bed with him driving her out of her mind. Or just cruising on empty country roads.

Anything with him was perfect. Anything with him made her happy. She’d never thought too far in the future, but it loomed over her now. She knew he didn’t see her as a hook up, or a summer fling. And that scared her as much as it made her tummy flip.

The music changed to a faster song that was tearing up the current country charts. Rosie and Cruz looked at each other and at the same time said, “Wanna sit down?”

She giggled and he wrapped a big arm around her and steered her to their table, through dozens of people streaming onto the dance floor.

“I’m gonna get a refill. Want anything?” he asked.

“No, I’m good.” She still had a half glass of wine to finish.

“Be right back.”

“Okay.” The bar had become exponentially more crowded since they’d been dancing. Now the floor was so full of people that they almost reached their table. She peeked over her shoulder to see Cruz waiting in a throng, as bartenders hustled behind the U-shaped bar.

So distracted by his tall frame and broad shoulders, she didn’t see anyone walking toward her. Didn’t know, until it was too late.

“Cracklin Rosie, is that you?”

She whirled on her seat as dread bloomed in her stomach. Only one person called her by that stupid nickname. She found herself looking into the arrogant eyes of someone she never expected to see again. “Peter?”

Her ex-boyfriend. The one she’d been trying to get over in college. The one that had messed her up so badly that she got too drunk and wrecked her car…and her life.

Not just her life.

He’d been gone already, moved who knew where. He never called, never acknowledged what had happened to her. She hadn’t expected it because they had already broken up. She honestly never figured she’d see him again, and that was fine. She took responsibility for her actions. But now, an explosion of emotions hit her like a cannon blast.

Did he know about the crash? Her injuries?

Did he deserve to know…

The one little detail linking them after they’d broken up?

But it was over. Gone in a blink, a crash, a tree. For a second, the chill of snow dusted her arms. The vibration of an engine going way too fast. The slide of tires with no traction…

Rosie forced herself to breathe. What were the odds of running into him here?

“It is you! Shoot, girl! How long’s it been? Five, six years?” Peter stared at her chest. “You look good.”

Her throat was dry. She needed to tell him to leave. But she couldn’t get words out.

“Yeah, guess it’s a surprise to run into each other here,” he went on, as if this was somehow normal. His eyes raked her hair, her entire upper body. “How ya been?”

“Good.” She pushed the word out. “You should leave.”

He took a half step back. “What? Is that any way to talk to an old friend?” He had the nerve to act pissed. “I’m almost offended.”

Peter had been handsome before. Blond hair, blue eyes, he’d played football in high school and had been in shape—then. Now, he was definitely bigger in the middle. “Well, it was a weird coincidence that you’re here and so am I, but you really should go.” Cruz would kill him.

“Are you here with someone? Is that the problem?” Peter scanned the room. “What kind of idiot would leave you sitting here alone, in that dress, looking completely fuckable?”

His puffy cheeks reddened. What had she ever seen in him? What had the other girl seen in him—the one he cheated on her with? The half decade hadn’t been kind to him. And now he had the nerve to stand at her table and cuss? “You need to walk away. Now.” If not because she’d asked three damn times, then for his own sake, because Cruz would be back soon.

“Listen to you, all bossy.” His smile was lecherous. “I like it. You and me had some good times, remember?”

What planet was he on? “Before you slept with someone else?”

“Aww, now don’t be like that. I’m sorry.” He leaned one arm on the table, getting too close. “How about I buy you a drink and we catch up?”

A whoosh of air behind her was her only warning. Cruz appeared at her side and grabbed Peter by the throat. “How about you go fuck yourself? And while you’re jerking off your tiny two-inch dick, remember to never, ever,” his voice was feral, “talk to my girl again.”

Cruz flexed his fingers into the man’s neck and hoped it would take the edge off his rage. Rosie’s discomfort had been clear as a fucking neon sign and that made him insane. Every fight instinct in him tore to vibrant life. A tiny voice cautioned him that he walked a fine line.

But with Rosie, that line was blurred. He’d do anything for her.

The man gasped and wheezed, grabbing futilely at Cruz’s hand.

Rosie leaned close to him. “Cruz,” she said softly but with urgency. Her perfume swirled around him, a reminder of her sweetness and why he’d come between any man and her, from now on. “Please stop. Let go. He’s not worth it. Not worth getting in trouble over.” She laid a hand on his bicep.

Her touch was soft, familiar, reassuring, and it brought him back from the precipice of fury. He released the asshole, who stumbled back.

The man coughed and swore and rubbed his neck. Straightening, he glared at Rosie. “Shit, Rosie. Where the hell’d you find this guy?”

What the fuck? A new tendril of emotion shot through Cruz. Not a good one. He wanted her to not know this douchebag, to have him never be a part of her universe. But he had to know. He swung his focus to her. “You know this guy?”

She swallowed. “We dated. A long time ago. His name is Peter.”

“Aw, it wasn’t that long ago. Seems like yesterday. And all I wanted was to say hello tonight.” Peter made a scoffing sound. “Didn’t know you’d turned into a cold-ass bitch who hooked up with a fucking pit bull.” He scowled, then as if in a delayed reaction, he chuckled. “Ha. Bitch, pit bull. You deserve each other.”

For a split second, time stopped. Cruz was aware of his fist clenching, of Peter’s sneer, of Rosie behind him. Only for a second.

Then his fist was flying forward. It smashed Peter’s jaw with a satisfying crack. Rosie gasped and the crowd around them backed up, leaving a circle that in seconds drew the attention of the entire place. Peter staggered back but didn’t fall, and came up swearing, fists raised.

He charged Cruz, angling a shoulder into his middle. But Cruz had fought too many fights to ever lose one to some overweight pompous dick in a bar. He grabbed and twisted Peter’s shoulders, turning so he could snare him in a chokehold.

The crowd cheered. Above people’s heads, he spotted bouncers running toward them. Peter sputtered. But he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Cruz, let him go. I don’t want you to get arrested.” Rosie pleaded in his ear. “Please. I mean it. He’s not worth it. I just want you to take me home.”

A burly man taller than Cruz pushed through the crowd. “Break it up, men. Time for you both to leave.”

“Cruz.” Rosie’s voice took on a note of anguish.

A link snapped in his mind, and he released the jackass. Peter dropped like a stone but leaped to his feet, glaring. “Fuck you.”

“Ignore him.” Rosie grabbed Cruz’s shoulders. “Take me home. Okay?”

Wide blue eyes gazed up at him with worry and urgency. But nothing in her gaze was casual. It was deep, caring…He pulled her tightly against him. “Okay.” He just breathed her in, felt her softness next to him, felt her hands caressing his shoulders. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She pulled back to study him. She caressed his jaw and then reached for his hand. “Let’s go.”

He led her out, past people who looked at his arms and shot him wary glances. Past people who nodded, saying Peter was asking for it. But he blocked it all out. The rage-fueled adrenaline swirled in his veins, but Rosie’s touch calmed him. Her body tucked close to his was a security blanket he didn’t expect.

No one had ever been there to take the edge off his anger. It was always just another fight, another theft.

Dark humidity hung thick in the air as they exited. Damn. He hustled Rosie to his truck without speaking, needing to get out of here ASAP. He cranked the air conditioning and the engine to life and peeled out of the parking lot.

“I’m sorry I ruined our dancing night,” he muttered.

She angled toward him in the seat, something she liked to do. He liked it too, glancing over to see her pretty face looking at him. “You didn’t ruin it. He did.”

“I was walking back from the bar and saw you. Saw him looking at you like you were a piece of meat.” His hand clenched on the wheel. “No one is allowed to look at you like that. Ever.”

“I told him to go away. He didn’t listen.”

“He just walked up to you and started talking?”

She nodded.

“How long ago did you date him?” And what the hell had she seen in a loser like that…

Short choppy breaths drew his focus to her. “Rosie? Seriously, did he hurt you in any way?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s just that…that…I dated him in college.”

The last word hug in the air, nearly dissipating before he realized what she said. College. She’d dated a guy in college, they broke up, and then she’d… “He was the one you…you were trying to get over, that night?” Cruz steered the truck to the side of the road and reached for her.

She nodded. “He was different …not fat. Not such an ass. But still an ass. Enough of one that he cheated on me. That’s why we broke up.”

“Shit.” Cruz wrapped an arm around her. “I’m sorry he hurt you. But I’m not sorry you two broke up. He’s a loser.”

“I know.” She sniffled. “Which makes the accident seem even worse. Like, why did it have to happen over him? He didn’t even know. I guess he still doesn’t. And that’s fine. He wouldn’t care.”

“He didn’t deserve you.”

A fresh wave of tears started to fall and Cruz had never felt so bad at offering comfort. So he shut up and just held her, stroked her hair. If she hadn’t seen him…if they’d been broken up since before her accident, he could see how tonight would be like a nuclear bomb. He thanked the stars he was the one with her—that she hadn’t been out with girlfriends who may have thrown insults but couldn’t physically subdue a guy that size.

“I’m sorry.” She swiped at tears that soaked his shirt. “I—I can’t pull it together.”

“Shh, baby, you don’t need to. Fall apart all you need to. I got you. I always will.” The last words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. But…

They were true. Hell. Deep in his heart, something relaxed and bloomed. They were true. But her shoulders only shook harder. And he was having an epiphany. Rosie was his girl.

Not for the summer.

He wanted her forever.

“Shh, pretty girl.” Her sobs went on and on. He started to remind her it was over, it was in the past, that asshole was gone…but it wasn’t gone. Not for her, not ever. She carried the scars and consequences. Ah, hell.

To have what she had taken away was the worst of injustices. He could say that. And he would say it, until the end of time. He may be the only one who could.

But as her sadness wracked her lungs, images shifted in his mind. How good she was with Brenda’s children. The shadows that would sneak up on her, betraying her sunny nature for those split seconds before she could hide it.

Those damn shadows. He’d chase them away forever if he could. She was his light, the brightest thing in his life. He wouldn’t lose her, and he wouldn’t let anything dim her spirit. But as she cried herself into a blubbering mess, he knew, intrinsically, that she wasn’t just crying over her idiot ex-boyfriend. That she wasn’t only reliving the crash.

That something unnamed, that deep hurt?

He needed to know what haunted her. “Rosie.” He slid a finger under her jaw, trailing through rivers of tears, and tilted her head up. “What else happened?”

Chapter 25

Every part of Rosie froze. Even her tears stopped halfway down her cheeks as if they were too scared to move.

She stared at Cruz through a watery haze. All she saw was his compassion. And she was thunderstruck, again, at how he could read her.

She’d brushed him off before. Maybe that wasn’t fair. But the terror that stilled her soul wouldn’t loosen its iron grip. So intense was the fear that though that thought should have triggered more sobs, her body refused. “C-can we just go home?” she whispered.

He studied her for a second. Then sweet as pie, he kissed her damp cheek. “Sure.” He kissed the other cheek. “I don’t like to see you so sad, pretty girl. Let me help.”

She couldn’t look at him. Kept her chicken-shit gaze on the gear shift as he put the truck back into drive and took them home.

With every mile that passed, her heart squeezed more tightly into itself. Protecting itself? It was like it knew her world was about to implode. The big bang was about to happen to her soul, and she couldn’t stop it.

Her heart wanted Cruz. More than she’d ever wanted another man. Her mind, too—but she’d never let anyone in before, never been close to even thinking about it.

After passing field after field of knee-high corn, her driveway came into view. She knew every bump on the road. Glancing out the window, every star was bright and twinkling. All familiar things. But she may as well have been catapulted into another world. She’d been running from the truth for so long, she didn’t know how to begin.

Cruz parked by her front yard and hustled around to open her door. She slid out and into his arms. He clutched her tightly to his chest, lifting her off the ground as if she weighed nothing. “Baby,” he murmured into her hair. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

She sighed. A sad, angry, hopeless sigh. How to even proceed? “Can we sit on the porch?”

“You got it.” He put her down and draped his arm around her shoulders.

They reached the porch and she sat on the swing. He nestled close, tucking her against his broad chest. She expected an instant question, but was only met with Sundown’s nocturnal residents. Mockingbirds sang their repertoire of calls and katydids trilled all around the yard. It should’ve been a nice, normal rural night…but the axis of her world was about to crack. She breathed in his clean, masculine scent and tried to find strength.

She failed. She couldn’t find strength, or her voice. After a while of sitting in the humid country night, he sifted his fingers through her hair. “I just get the feeling that something is bothering you. Like I said before, you get this look sometimes, I don’t know. Like there’s more going on, and it hurts. Something big, something deep down.” He paused. “Am I wrong?”

She couldn’t lie. Just couldn’t do it to this man, who she cared about more with each passing second. “No.”

He shifted to face her, and framed her face in his hands. “Baby, I want to help you with it. Whatever it is. I fucking hate that you’re hurting.” He frowned. “I can beat up a man. But this? Whatever it is, I can’t touch it, can’t see it. I wish I could. I’d take it down right this second.”

A thousand emotions hit her as she gazed into his slate blue eyes. But they jumbled together in her mind, a heaping roadblock that wouldn’t let her speak.

“Whatever it is, it hasn’t stopped making you a caring person,” he went on. “Someone who can bust her ass doing three people’s jobs at work, and still help out with a friend’s kids, playing whatever they want to play. Even if you’re sick of that particular game.”

She swallowed.

“Was it something about the night of the crash?”

She nodded.

“You were at a party—did someone hurt you? Give you a drink with that roofie crap in it?”

“No.”

“What was it?”

Still, she couldn’t find her voice.

“When you wrecked…did anyone else get injured too?”

Jesus. That was the question, wasn’t it? It hung in the air like a dandelion puff that wouldn’t pick a spot to fall, tossing aimlessly on the breeze. She stared at his hands, unable to look him in the eye.

“Rosie. Let me in, pretty girl.” He traced her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Whatever it was, I guarantee I’ve done much worse. Not that that makes anyone feel better or takes it away. But I’m here, and I’m not giving up.”

“I don’t want to tell you,” she whispered.

“Why?” His voice roughened, as if he was reining in emotion.

“I’m scared of…”

“You’re scared of what I’ll think?”

She nodded.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. Paused. “Do you realize what you’re doing?”

“Holding it in.”

“Shutting me out.” He angled to face the truck, letting his elbows rest on his knees.

A sharp pain flared behind her sternum. Oh no. She hadn’t intended to…

“And you’re not giving me a chance. You’re deciding how you think I’ll react without letting me weigh in.” A new emotion lanced through his words, one she hadn’t seen on him before. And one that made her feel worse, something she hadn’t thought was possible.

She’d hurt him. “I never meant that. “

He blew out a breath and stood. “First, it was hard to see you hurting, and see you want to keep it inside. But I get it, we’d just met. But now? I don’t play mind games. I thought you’d know me better. You think I’d judge you?” He paced now, his shoes stomping on her porch. “I’ve told you I’m the last person who should judge anyone. I would never, ever do it to you.”

Fresh tears welled. Now she’d done it. She couldn’t blame him for whatever he was feeling right now.

“I had ten years. Ten years, Rosie, of my choices taken away. People told me when I could eat, sleep, and take a piss. I’m done. I’m never letting anyone take that away ever again.”

Her shoulders shook with the truth of his words. She had no right to do what she was doing. And maybe that was a sign. If she couldn’t find courage, she didn’t deserve him. But then he swooped down to kneel in front of her. “Let me in. I am fucking begging you. I care about you more than I ever expected to care about someone. I want to help you carry this pain. Because that’s what you do when you really truly care.”

“No matter what it is?” She hoped against all hope.

“No matter what.”

She gazed into his eyes, watching in fascination as they searched her own. He’d been honest with her. He’d even told her the things that were sealed up in his court record.

The least she could do would be to return the favor. Though opening up would be the hardest thing she’d ever done, harder than her months of recovery. She’d pasted on a smile for so long, it was hard to find what lay beneath. All she had was words, and they wouldn’t be pretty.

But he was right. He’d been nothing short of wonderful to her, and she was falling for him. This miracle of a man who’d dropped into her life deserved to know all of her. The broken parts as well as the sunny side she let everyone else see.

She took a deep breath. You have to. You owe it to him. “I’ve…I’ve never told anyone. That’s partly why this is so hard.” She studied a button on his shirt. “Keeping it inside made it easier. It avoided people knowing…people gossiping…probably judging.”

He moved back to sit next to her and took her hand. His face remained calm, patient. God, how did he do that?

She squeezed his hand for strength. This was it. She had one little sentence to utter, and she may as well have been flying a fighter plane way up in the clouds, ready to drop a nuclear bomb.

Would they survive the fallout?

like she was leaping off a cliff. “When I had the wreck…” Tears popped into her eyes as she made herself speak. “I was pregnant.”

Chapter 26

Tears cascaded down Rosie’s cheeks. Her shoulders shook and she couldn’t bear to look at Cruz.

Her words lingered, roaring in her head like a sadistic echo in hell. Teasing. Merciless. Now that they were out there, she could never take them back.

Cruz, perfect man that he was, didn’t pull away. Didn’t ask her what the fuck.

Instead, he drew her close, wrapping her in his warm, inked arms as if she were about to break.

But now the floodgates were open. And the need to explain it all pushed with the force of a broken dam.

“I didn’t know,” she sniffed. “I didn’t know. It was early on. My periods have always been irregular. And it was winter. Everyone I knew was sick with some cold or flu or sinus thing. So maybe I had been feeling a little more tired and a little queasy now and then. I-I didn’t think anything of it.” She shook her head. “I never suspected. Peter and I were broken up already.”

Cruz tensed for a second and a rumble rose low in his chest. “Goddamn son of a bitch.”

“I f-found out in the hospital. When I woke up after surgery. I didn’t know where I was, or what happened. All I remembered was leaving the party. And snow. Lots of snow.” She paused, letting the images of her hospital room fully invade her brain for the first time in years. White walls and machines beeping near her head. Nurses with smiles that couldn’t hide the pity in their eyes. And Shane, looking like he’d been in a war zone all over again. “Shane was there. And our parents. It was good to have family there, for them to be the first people I saw.” She swallowed. “But when he stepped out, the doctor came in. And he told me everything.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“In one sentence, I found out I was pregnant and then I wasn’t.” She gazed at the towering trees in her yard, where bats circled and then flew off in search of dinner. “I told the doctor that I didn’t want anyone to know. And since no one else had even thought it, that was the end of it.”

“Except it hurt, and it still does.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“And it’s my fault.” Her voice cracked through a new onslaught of tears. “Everything that happened is my fault. I brought this on myself.”

“No. I don’t believe that for a second.” He ran a hand down her back to splay at her waist. “It was an accident. By definition, that is something that wasn’t intended. So there is no fault.”

“But I should have seen the signs,” she went on. “They were all there. Being tired. Feeling nauseated at random times. No period. I should have checked. Done a test. Something. But I didn’t.”

He cupped her tear-streaked face in his hands. “You are not at fault. You lost more than anyone knows.”

“I just feel like that makes everything so much worse,” she whispered. “It adds a layer of awfulness to a night that was already bad.”

“It’s not a reason to beat yourself up for years. You need to heal. And hindsight will make you insane. Don’t do this to yourself.”

“But …but because I didn’t ….I …it’s my fault.” Tears splashed onto his chest, his forearms. “I was so self-absorbed. So wrapped up in my own whiny pain that I never ever stopped to consider that something else might be going on. It didn’t even occur to me.” Grief wrenched from her throat in a keening cry. “And …and that little life is gone. Because of me. I-I was the only one who could protect it. It depended on me and I didn’t even know it was there. How shitty of a person am I?”

He kissed one damp cheek. “Baby, stop. You didn’t know.”

“Why didn’t I have that women’s or mother’s intuition that I hear about?” She shook her head. “Look how badly I messed up a chance at mothering. Now the possibility is gone. And it’s probably because the universe thinks I’d do a shitty job. Look at what happened. I’d just screw up again and again.”

“Stop.” He forced her to meet his eyes, and the compassion there slayed her. “I’ve seen you with children. You’ll be an excellent mom someday. I don’t want to hear you talk yourself down.”

“I was so selfish,” her voice rose as grief morphed into anger. “It’s my fault. There is no one else to blame. Now everything’s gone. Poof. Because I’m selfish.”

His eyes flared. “I don’t ever wanna hear you say that again. You are so far from selfish, you’re not even in the same universe. I’ve seen selfish people. And I’ve seen bad people. And I’ve told you before—you are not them.”

“But—”

“And you want to talk blame?” He ran a hand through his hair. “You want to know how much time I sat staring at a goddamn wall, thinking about blame?”

Her heart clenched at the reminder of his lost decade.

“That shit gets you nowhere. Nowhere. I can tell you because I’ve lived it. And I can see it in your face, hear it in your words, that you’re stuck in that night. And you don’t have to be.”

“I don’t know how not to be,” she said. “My life changed forever that night.”

“You’ve paid the highest price someone can pay. And I can look you straight in your pretty blue eyes and say that. Because I paid it too. I know what it’s like. And yeah, I know what it’s like to think back to the woulda, shoulda, couldas. If I hadn’t done shit when I was underage, they may not have placed me at the scene of that murder. Might not have been able to convince a jury that I was guilty.”

She sniffled, studying the Spanish on his arm. Sobrevivir. “You survived. But I still feel like I—I can’t get through this.”

“That’s why I got on my goddamn knee asking you to let me help.” He took her hands in his. “You can’t always do it alone. I will carry this for you, fight it for you. Be at your side, whatever it takes for you to see that you’re a good woman. You don’t have to tell the whole town. But it’s too much for you to handle alone. So you need to trust someone. Baby.” He kissed her swiftly, and she tasted the salt from her own tears that had collected on his lips. “I’m so glad you told me. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“You’re too good for me,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “No one is good enough for you.”

“I’m broken. All I have is a crappy past and bad decisions.”

“That’s not what I see.” He shook his head. “I see a woman who’s sexy as hell and likes to speak her mind. I see a woman who dotes on kids, who’ll help a friend anytime, who loves her family. And who deals with the good and bad at a job that’s not easy, on your feet all day or night. Who’s polite and sweet and remembers to ask what’s going on in other people’s lives.”

Cue the water works again. She just couldn’t stop.

“A person who makes bad decisions isn’t those things. You may have stuffed that night deep down where you thought it couldn’t get out. But keeping it there hurts you. Baby, I want you to stop hurting. Let me help.”

Sadness pounded at her with the force of a freight train. “Why?” Of all the things in life that might be coming her way, she wanted him at her side more than anything.

“Because damn it, Rosie Marlow, I love you.”

“I love you.” The words left Cruz’s mouth before conscious thought could stop them. Holy hell. He did love her.

He had no other explanation for why he wanted to ease someone else’s pain more than he wanted to breathe. He had no other words for why he wanted to smooth the edges that she thought were cracked and broken, and help her see what a miracle she was.

Rosie’s tear-filled eyes went saucer-wide and her jaw fell open.

“I love you,” he said again, liking how the syllables sounded coming from him, about her. “Everything about you. I know you’re not perfect, and god knows I’m far from it. But I’ll love every bit of yourself you give to me. Every sweet thought and every flaw. Every inch of your sexy skin.” He kissed her shoulder, where it met her throat. “And every drawled out word and every secret little place you wanna show me.”

“I…”

“I didn’t move here for a woman. All I ever wanted was a fresh start.” He stroked a hand down her arm. “But ever since you looked at me in your bar that first night, I can’t get you out of my head.”

“Cruz.” She cupped his jaw, eyes full of sadness. Not what he expected after confessing his love. “I…”

He laid a gentle finger on her lips. “Don’t say anything about who deserves what. I don’t want to hear it. We get dealt a hand in life. It might be good or it might be shit. But I want you. I don’t care what path you’ve taken to get here. I see you now, sitting here with your heart breaking because of the past. All I want is to help you put the pieces back together. I see you, all of you. But I get the sense that you only see that night.”

Wide eyes met his and she shook her head. “How can you read me so well?”

“Maybe I pay close attention to every little thing about you. How you talk more southern when you’re nervous or turned on.”

She let out a soft laugh. “Maybe no one ever paid me that much mind before. Or else I am a damn good actress.”

“Maybe a little of all of the above.”

“I’m glad you do. Pay attention.”

“I plan on doing it for as long as you’ll let me.”

“That long, huh?” She traced his arm again. “That makes me so happy to hear.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. And I really don’t want you paying attention to any other girl.”

“I don’t remember seeing any other girl in this entire state since I met you.” Maybe that was sappy, but it was the truth. “Only you, pretty girl.”

She ran her hands up his chest and found the top button of his shirt, then the next. Hell, he was on board for whatever she needed to get through tonight, though sex wasn’t what he expected.

But she got to the bottom, pushed the two halves of his shirt apart, and laid her hand on his pec. Over the words that defined his past. “This is who you used to be,” she murmured.

“Yeah. Now, it’s just a reminder.” He’d left that behind, literally and figuratively.

“You’re incredible,” she went on. “Amazing. I admire you for having the courage to move away from what you know and start somewhere new. To leave the bad stuff behind. I-I don’t have that.”

“I can help you be brave, pretty girl.”

“I can’t do it alone.”

“You’ll never need to.” He covered her hand with his. “I’m in this with you. It’s gonna be okay.”

She raised her eyes to his. “I never thought I’d ever hear anyone say that.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “I love you, Cruz.”

Her words were a sweet magic spell that made his heart feel like it no longer fit in his chest. She loved him. Despite her sadness and grief, she trusted him with the darkest parts of her. And that made him want to beat his chest with pride and at the same time, it instilled a deep need to always protect her. Both her heart, and her body. If she would give him the gift of her love, he would guard her with every fiber of his being.

He hooked an arm around her neck and pulled her close, brushing his lips across hers.

She sighed against him. “I never expected you. You just showed up, like some dark knight.”

He paused, holding in a surprised chuckle. That was something he’d never been called before. “Dark knight?”

“Um…I don’t know.” She bit her lip adorably. “That’s what I thought, that first night when you protected me from those guys. You came out of nowhere, and did what you did, like a …I don’t know. Like another word that you’ve told me you don’t want to hear.”

“I’ll be anything you want me to be, baby.”

“You already are.” She pulled his lower lip into her mouth, sucking gently.

God, her mouth was sweet, sassy, naughty, magic. His little temptress. Her hand caressed his chest, mimicking the way she loved to do with her tongue. Unable to resist her, he threaded his hand into her hair and gripped tightly.

He kissed her with the storm of emotions churning through him. She was so wild and unique, so opposite of him and yet…he’d never met anyone who fit him so perfectly. They were both flawed. Him publicly, her privately, but deeply enough to make them crazy—if they let it. He shaped her lips, nipping gently.

He’d had years to think about how he wanted to live, and being held in the past sure as hell wasn’t it. Now he just had to convince his pretty southern girl that she could do it too.

She pulled back to cup his jaw, and at that moment, bright flashes lit the sky.

She glanced to the starburst flares. “Ohhh, fireworks.”

He chuckled.

“What? Don’t tell me you haven’t seen these.”

“Oh, I have. Every year, millions of people pack in together at the lakefront to watch.” He’d spent his times picking pockets from those distracted crowds, but that was in the past. “But did you know you say fahrworks?”

“What? It’s fireworks.”

“You add extra syllables to everything else, but you make fire into one.” He tucked her under his arm. “You’re something else.”

She leaned on his shoulder. “Maybe I should read out loud to you, just pouring on the accent until you do my bidding.”

“I’ll take that any day. And you don’t need to ask to get me to do your bidding.” He stroked a hand down to her hip and patted. “I’m all yours.”

She left her hand tucked into his shirt as they watched each blaze of color explode in the dark sky. Watching fireworks on a front porch hundreds of miles from his past, with a pretty blonde who’d lived here all her life?

Not what Cruz had ever expected. But now, he couldn’t function without.

Chapter 27

Rosie leaned on the sparkling-clean bar that she’d wiped down ten times already. A handful of customers were kicked back, shooting the breeze with their bellies full. Brenda had checked on all the tables and only Gene and Howard sat at the bar.

The slow night suited Rosie just fine. She’d been distracted to the point of head-in-the-clouds obsession with Cruz. He was hers, and she wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

He’d been intense before. But now, after spilling her soul only to hear he loved her—she was in a bubble of happy delirium. Every time he wrapped her up tightly in his arms, her universe felt like it clicked into place.

Her phone buzzed in her pants pocket. Pulling it out, she grinned at the text bubble from Cruz. Didn’t matter that she only got the first few words in the notification. Anything he did made her happy. She swiped to see the entire message.

Cruz: I’m back at your house. Put the new locks on my windows.

Oh good, Rosie typed back, relieved. He spent most of his time at her place now. But the other day he’d stopped by his house and found two windows open. The same ones he’d mentioned to her weeks ago that didn’t lock. Nothing else seemed to be amiss, but it prompted him to fix them. Now no critters can get in and raid your fridge.

Cruz: They’d be out of luck.

True. All he had was a few beers and water bottles. See you in a couple hours.

Wake me up if you want. He added a purple devil face.

She sent him a kissy face and pocketed her phone. Whether awake or asleep, he would be a mountain of temptation lying there when she got home.

Deciding to check on George, she first paused by Gene and Howard. “You guys good?”

“Oh sure.” Gene grinned. “He’s losin’ so I’m real good.”

Howard grunted and shook his head.

Rosie found George at his post in front of the stove, music playing a song that was popular before she was born. As she neared she spotted a few new spices and seasonings besides the ones he used every single day. “Are you testing a new recipe?” She grabbed a clean spoon from the drawer and dipped it into the bubbling pot. Taking a bite, she closed her eyes. “Oh my gosh, this is delicious!”

“You know me, I’m always trying new things.” George grinned. “Now to decide when to roll it out—”

The oldies music and lights clicked off.

Rosie froze, the way people always do when the power goes out and they’re plunged into sudden darkness. The kitchen had no windows, but the emergency light came on over the door.

“Damn crap time for the power to go out,” George muttered. “We got five dinners roasting in the oven.”

Brenda ducked her head in. “Oh good, the emergency light is on. I’ll go talk to the customers.”

“I’ll check the office.” Rosie set down her spoon of sauce. “See if I can get to the circuit box.”

She walked into the hallway and headed all the way to the back. The circuit box was located in the employees’ room. A set of emergency lights above the back door cast thin beams of white into the darkness. She walked slowly anyway, not wanting to stumble. Almost there—

Two figures in black, wearing ski masks, leapt out of the door to the employees’ room. Fast. A cry tore from her throat.

One figure grabbed her and clamped a hand over her mouth.

The other leaned in to peer at her. “It’s her. Let’s go.”

Rosie struggled in this grip, but he was unmovable. Tall and built like a tank. She tried to make noise, kick the walls, anything. Panic shot through her. No!

She tried to bite down on the man’s hand.

He cursed and grunted. “Gimme the rag. She’s a feisty one.”

The second man passed him a cloth, which he swiftly pressed over her mouth and nose. Terror flared anew. Were they going to kill her?

She jerked back, twisted her head. An antiseptic scent filled her nose. No! No! What was this? Some chemical? She fought harder.

The second man opened the restaurant’s back door. The man holding Rosie forced her to move. She made her legs go limp and tried to slide down out of his grip.

“Fuck, you gonna be like that. Shit.” As if she weighed nothing, he scooped her up in his arms in a cradle hold and burst outside

A car sat idling right next to the door. No! Protests exploded in Rosie’s mind. Have to get away! If they take you somewhere your chances of survival drop. No!

The second man opened the rear door and the first man climbed in, not letting go of Rosie. Slam! The door shut.

He still held the rag over her mouth. She tried to bring a knee up to his face. But he ducked. “Just a few more minutes and you won’t be able to try that shit.”

Slam! The driver’s door closed and the car peeled out of the lot. Her breath was choppy, filtered through whatever was on the rag. It smelled like…nail polish? Some kind of solvent? Confusion crept in around the panic and she knew if she didn’t get out now, she might never…She tried to elbow him…and suddenly her arm felt like it weighed twenty pounds. Oh no. Can’t pass out. She needed to try to see where they were going. Try to see… She blinked as her head dropped back onto the man’s upper arm.

He chuckled and pulled off his ski mask, revealing olive-toned skin, a grizzled jaw, and buzzed dark hair. “That’s it. Nighty night.”

“No.” She thought she was saying the word emphatically, but it sounded like it came from miles away.

“Got some fight in you, huh? All right. See how long that lasts.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but then her jaw felt like it wasn’t working. Outside, the black night gave no clue to their whereabouts. She knew they’d left the Grille’s parking lot. That was all she knew, and oh god. All she wanted was Cruz. Cruz…

Chapter 28

Cruz’s phone rang from its perch on Rosie’s nightstand. He jolted upright at the noise, on instant alert. The clock next to it read one am. Rosie should still be at work… Grabbing the phone, he glanced at the number. Local…but not one he recognized. “Hello?”

“Zaffino?” A gruff male voice came through the line.

“Yeah.” He pushed the sheet off and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“It’s Shane Marlow.”

“Oh. Uh…hey.” Not who he expected, and a spike of worry flared in his mind. “What—”

“Is Rosie with you, by any chance?”

Now the worry quadrupled into something deeper. “No.” He stood and started looking for his clothes. “She’s scheduled to be at work for another hour.”

“I know. I’m at the Grille. She’s not here.”

“What?” Cruz put the phone on speaker and dropped it on the bed. “Where the fuck is she?” He yanked on his clothes as apprehension fueled his arms to move faster. Had she gotten into an accident? Why had no one called him before right now—

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. Power’s out at the Grille. She was here, but at some point after the power was cut, she…she’s not here.”

“The power was cut?” Jeans already on, he yanked a T-shirt over his head and grabbed the phone. “Shit, I’m coming over.”

“Fine. The place is closed, customers all went home, but staff is still here. And the power company.”

A hundred thoughts raced through Cruz’s mind like some kind of psycho cartoon demons, one worse than the next. But why would she leave? She loved that place. Why wouldn’t she call, if she left? Nothing about this was like her.

His fists clenched and unclenched on the steering wheel as he sped toward the Grille. No worries about getting a ticket when the town’s police were gathered in the one place he was already headed.

In a few minutes his truck roared into the Grille’s parking lot. Shane’s SUV was out front, along with another squad car and a white van with an orange flashing light on top. A spotlight had been set up at the side of the building, shining on a utility box where three men worked. Yellow caution tape surrounded them.

He stormed inside. One glance at Brenda’s tearful face and the chagrin on George and Owen’s faces, and his gut sank.

Shane set his hands on his hips, where he stood with the group. Denver sat next to him and rose to greet Cruz with a sniff. Probably smells Rosie on me.

“Tell me.” Cruz bit out.

“The county electrical guys are here because it looks like the power to the building was cut. No other outages were reported in town. No bad weather. From what they can see, no animals got in there and gnawed the lines. It’s a clean slice.”

“Why?” The question sawed out of his lungs.

“No idea. No one saw anyone else come in here, except for the customers that were here when it happened. Everyone else is accounted for.”

“Is her stuff here?” Cruz asked.

“Purse, yeah, in the employee room. But not her phone. And uh…” Shane reached for a pad of paper on one of the tables. “This was on the floor in the back hall. Its hers. She kept it in her apron pocket.”

Cruz stared at the small rectangular lined pad, the kind he’d seen Rosie and all the waitresses use. “It’s hers?” His mind raced a mile a minute. “Wait, her car—is it—”

“It’s out back, where she always parks it.” Brenda sniffed.

“Why would she just leave? And on foot?” Cruz paced between two tables. None of this made sense.

Only the hum of air conditioning met his ears. He stopped, arms crossed, and found several pairs of sad eyes focused on him.

“We’ve been wondering the same thing and hoping you could help us figure that out,” Shane said. His voice was quiet but carried the undercurrent of raw emotion.

“You don’t…” Cruz gritted his teeth as a new and blindingly painful thought speared into his brain. He was still the new guy. Did they think he was involved in her disappearance? Oh hell no. He forced calm into his voice, aware that he was speaking to a group of people that contained a cop. “I would lay down my life before I’d let anything happen to her.”

Brenda stood and rushed toward him with fresh tears. “Cruz, no. That’s not it. That’s not what we think.” She wrung her hands together, squashing a Kleenex that was on the verge of disintegrating. “It’s just…you guys are together all the time. She cares about you so much…she spends more time with you than anyone else, and we wondered if she might have said anything to you about maybe taking off.”

“Taking off? No.” He dropped his head back and glared at a lazy spinning ceiling fan. She always said she couldn’t wait to get home to me. “She loves this place, this town.” He leveled a stare at Shane. “Her family.”

Shane regarded him steadily. No accusation, no judgement. Just pain that he was trying hard to cover.

Cruz took a deep breath, not even able to imagine the thought of losing her. Something was off to the nth degree. “I want to look outside, in back.”

Shane angled his head. “Let’s go. I’ve got another officer out there.” He led the way through the restaurant to a back hallway, Denver close on his heels. He indicated a spot on the floor. “That’s where we found her notepad.”

Cruz’s veins fired with confusion. “So she was in this part of the building, and then…”

“That’s the question.” Shane shoved open the door.

Another cop was taking pictures of the ground and the tires on Rosie’s car. His focus swung up as Shane and Cruz came out. “Just getting some pictures of all the treads on the employee cars. See if they’re consistent with these.” He indicated a steak of dirt near the back door. He cast a questioning glance at Cruz.

“This is Cruz Zaffino. Rosie’s boyfriend.” Shane gave the slightest pause before the word boyfriend. “He’ll do what he can to help us.”

“Zaffino,” the cop said. “I’m Ted Markham. I’d like to check your tires too, as long as I’m—”

Denver gave a short bark as he nosed along the ground, right where Ted had pointed out the tire mark.

Shane studied his dog. “Whatcha got, boy?”

The dog trotted, nose to the ground, toward the men at the utility box. Shane, Cruz, and Ted followed. The power company workers elbowed each other as they saw Denver headed toward them, and stepped to the side.

Denver stopped at the green metal box which gaped open, revealing rows of colored wires. He barked once.

Shane crouched next to him, peering at the guts of the box as if it could tell what went down. “Ted, let’s see if we can get any prints off this.”

“You got it,” Ted said.

“What’s he telling you?” Cruz asked Shane.

“He’s connecting the scents he picked up here,” Shane pointed to the green box, “and there.” He gestured to the spot behind the Grille.

Rosie’s words from weeks ago flashed back into Cruz’s head. Smartest dog ever. If Cruz had to pin his hopes on an animal, Denver would get top billing.

Shane gave a command and the two of them moved slowly around the box, each inspecting in their own way.

Cruz watched them with a mix of hope and frustration. Nothing made sense, and the need to find Rosie pounded relentlessly through every cell in his body. His sweet, pretty girl, who never did anything unexpected. Where are you, baby?

His phone rang, jolting him from his thoughts. Rosie. Thank fuck.

“It’s her. And she wants to do Facetime.” His finger hovered over the Accept button.

Shane abandoned his search and jogged over to Cruz. “Talk to her, find out where she is. Don’t let on that I’m here. I don’t know why she ignored my calls, but I’m just glad she’s reaching out to someone. Thank the lord.”

Relief zooming though his veins, Cruz hit Accept. Waited two seconds for the connection to complete. And then his heart nearly imploded.

Rosie’s face appeared, tear-streaked and dirty in a dark place. Her hair was a mess, knotted and stuck to her face. Over her shoulder, holding the phone, was a man Cruz didn’t recognize.

Her voice trembled, eyes lighting up for a half-second in recognition. “Cruz! Oh my god, Cruz, you have listen to me—”

“That’s enough.” The man angled the phone so his own ugly mug was in the screen. “Zaffino? You see your girl here?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Cruz roared. In front of him, Shane and Ted remained silent, cold concentration on their faces.

“We’re old friends. Sort of. Your friends and my friends go way back.” The man chuckled. There were trees behind him. A bit of light came from somewhere.

“I don’t have friends like you. Where did you take her?”

“Relax, man, we’re not far. We need to talk to you. So you need to get your ass over here.”

“Where are you?”

Shane gestured to get his attention. Cruz looked up as Shane whispered. “Keep him talking, make him state his location more than once.”

“You better pay attention, or your little country Barbie here might get hurt,” the man sneered. “You wouldn’t want that now, would you?”

“If you lay a finger on her I will rip your heart out,” Cruz snarled.

“Tsk, tsk. Such strong words for a man who just got out of jail. Wouldn’t want to go back.”

“What do you want with me? Let her go. I’ll come to you,” Cruz said.

“We’re gonna keep your girlfriend here until you show up,” he said. “Mile marker 167 on highway 45. Park there and walk west. We’ll find you.”

“What mile marker?” Cruz knew exactly what the ass had said.

“167. Come here now, and come alone. You try any hero shit, she gets hurt. Lo entiendes?”

“Ye—” The call ended.

Cruz stared at it as fury boiled through his every nerve. The guy had a tattoo on his neck. A crown. Los Reyes. “Fuck.”

“Who was that?” Shane demanded.

“I don’t know his name, but he’s from a Chicago gang,” Cruz bit out.

“The fuck are they doing here, with Rosie?”

“They want me. Don’t know why.”

“They want you.” Shane glared. “And they took Rosie.”

Rage more vibrant than anything Cruz had ever felt surged through him, the only thing keeping him from guilt. He couldn’t go there, not now. The fear on Rosie’s face was etched permanently in his brain and it would take him down if he let it. But fuck that. “I’ll get her back.”

“Not alone.” Shane growled.

“I can take him. One guy?” Cruz said. “I learned the same way they did. You beat up the next guy or you got the shit beat out of you so bad you couldn’t breathe.”

“You only saw one man. But there could be more. They might be armed. Plus, we know the area better.”

“They said—”

“Fuck what they said.” Shane heaved out an angry breath. “Let them think you’re alone. Ted and I will be there. More deputies will be back up. And don’t forget him.” He shifted his attention to Denver, who paced the area around the men. “That asshole might expect you to have back up. But he won’t expect him.”

Cruz nodded. No one would anticipate the almost pony-sized shepherd to charge them, and he didn’t want to know what a perp’s arm would look like after Denver’s jaw clamped down on it. “Okay.”

“You take your truck and park where they said. I know exactly where that marker is, and across the highway there’s a tractor road. I’ll park there and follow you.”

Cruz shook his head. “They’ll be watching to see if I’m alone.”

“I’ll give you a head start. And if what Denver is sniffing here is their scent? He’s got this. We’ll find you. Guaranteed.” Shane’s voice was calm and authoritative. “And if it’s not their stink that he detected, he can identify Rosie’s scent. He’ll be able to get to her.”

“I won’t let them hurt her.” Cruz clenched his fists. “They’d have to kill me first.”

“I don’t want that,” Shane said. “Rosie really likes you.” He turned to Ted. “Call the sheriff, and have officers and an ambulance ready one mile from the rendezvous point. I’ll call when I need y’all to break cover.”

Ted nodded. “Will do. I’ll let Owen and the group know. Be careful.”

“I’m out of here.” Cruz started to head to the front, back to his truck.

“Zaffino,” Shane called.

Cruz stopped and half turned.

“Try to keep him talking until I get close. I know you won’t know exactly when that is, but trust me. We’ll catch up to you ASAP,” Shane said. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure this ends well for Rosie and you.”

“Thanks.” Cruz turned and jogged to his vehicle. He was beyond caring if he got the man’s approval.

He had to get to Rosie.

Chapter 29

Rosie sat at the base of a tree, ankles bound, and willed her mind to hope. She fixated on the image of Cruz on the Facetime call, how his smile had morphed to ragged concern when he got an extra second to look at her. But that brief flash of his face was enough, along with the sound of his voice on the phone with one of her abductors. His rage was blindingly clear.

He’ll find me. He will.

Since she’d regained consciousness, her phone had rung so often that the men had switched it to buzz. She was certain Shane and Brenda had tried to call. She held on to hope, because it was a lifeline. That, and the knowledge that Cruz loved her.

“How long is he gonna take?” asked the first man, whose name she had overheard. Esau. He’d been the one to grab her. The one who had to be as strong as Cruz. A tattoo curled up from the neckline of his black T-shirt, showcasing tendrils of ink. Some of them formed a symbol she couldn’t quite make out from her spot on the ground.

“Relajate, man,” the other one said. “This town is so small, he’s gotta get here soon. I’m not worried. We got our little meal ticket right here.” He nodded at Rosie.

She didn’t dare respond. Saying either yes or no both seemed like they could get her in trouble. Her head pounded from the chemical on the rag, and her muscles were sluggish. Unfortunately they’d also bound her hands behind her back. Attempting to secretly undo the knots had been futile—she didn’t know how, and her fingers lagged behind her brain’s weak attempts at thinking it through.

“What do you say, Barbie?” The second man squatted before her. “Your man gonna come get you, or is you two not all that close after all?”

“He’ll come,” she whispered.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” He checked his watch and stood. “Any minute now.”

Esau shook his head and pulled a gun out of his back waistband. He turned it over, clicked something open and then closed it.

Oh no. She didn’t think Cruz had a gun. No, no, no. He was going to come here and try to save her. And he didn’t know what he was walking into. If he got hurt because of her, it would kill her.

He was the one person who knew all of her, the one who breathed joy into her heart, the one who had lavished a healing kiss to her pain.

He was the one.

The realization hit her hard. He was the man she needed to spend the rest of her life with. And if he wasn’t careful, he would die trying to help her.

A snapping twig in the darkness had her turning toward the sound. The men went silent, each moving away from the tree she was secured to. The area was thickly wooded. She couldn’t tell how far from any path they were, since she had still been out cold when they brought her here. Her eyes had adjusted as best they could but still, everything before her formed shadowy shapes.

Her breath sounded too loud in her ears. The second man pulled a gun from his pants. No! Her mind screamed a silent protest.

Another crack echoed in the silent forest. It had to be Cruz.

“Who’s there?” Esau demanded gruffly.

Now, she saw a thin beam of light bouncing among the trees to her left. It flickered and waned weakly, then pointed toward their group. Too far to even make her blink, but she had to warn him. She had to do something. “Cruz! They have guns!” she screamed.

“Fucking shit!” Esau charged her, fist raised. It connected with her jaw so hard, her head bounced off the tree behind her. Stars exploded in her vision, and she couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or if she had passed out from the pain. The whole side of her face was on fire. Her head slumped forward—

He jerked her head back roughly and tied a cloth across her mouth. Okay, not passed out. The rough fabric sawed at the corners of her mouth. “Fucking bitch,” he muttered, tightening the knot. It tangled in her hair, pulling sharp spikes of pain from her scalp.

He straightened, scanning the trees.

Tears sprang to Rosie’s eyes, not from physical pain, but from knowing she couldn’t do anything more to help Cruz. She only hoped he’d heard her. She searched for the light in the trees but found only darkness. One eye felt funny when she blinked. Was it swelling? A tear overflowed and trickled down, stinging.

The other man swore softly. “Who the fuck is out there?”

“I’m here.” Cruz’s voice came from the darkness straight ahead. Closer than she had expected. He flicked on his flashlight, illuminating the ground and sweeping it back and forth. The beam passed over Rosie’s feet. “What the fuck?” He shone it higher. “I said not to fucking touch her!” He darted toward her.

Esau lunged, blocking Cruz’s path to Rosie. A smack echoed as heavy bodies collided. Rosie could barely see through the dark and through her half-closed eye. The flashlight fell to the ground and rolled toward her.

The air filled with the sounds of fighting: the crack of a jaw, the thud of fists hitting flesh, grunting and swearing. The ground shook as they fell and rolled.

Abruptly the flashlight was picked up and brought toward her head. Then a click echoed off the trees and cold metal pressed to her temple. Esau’s partner spoke. “Game’s over, Zaffino.”

Both men stopped and looked.

“No!” Cruz leaped off of Esau, who also scrambled to his feet. “Let her go. I’m here. What the fuck do you want from me?”

Esau trained his gun on Cruz. “You fucking snitch.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Esau went on. “You pissed off Big J with your story. His parole hearing was coming up and then it got yanked. Must be nice, snitching to walk free.”

“I didn’t snitch on anyone, asshole.” Cruz’s voice was low with menace. “I’m out because the witness changed his story. Told the fucking truth for the first time.”

“What witness?” Esau asked.

“From my trial. Juanito. Johnny Crazy Legs.” Cruz shifted his focus from Esau to the man by Rosie. “Maybe you should be talking to him.”

“Aw, shit. Crazy Legs?” Esau’s partner gave a half laugh. “He’s off the grid. No one seen him in months.”

“That piece of shit,” Esau muttered. “Heard he was arrested for dealing. Then…nada.”

“Maybe someone ratted on Big J, but it wasn’t me,” Cruz said. “Time to let us go. We’ll pretend we never saw you.”

“No can do, cabron,” the man by Rosie said. “Even if you didn’t do it, you both seen too much.”

Rosie’s breath came in short bursts. Her cheek throbbed, but terror coursed through her veins in a lethal takeover of her rationale. Both these guys had guns. They might be crazy. They probably shot people all the time. Please don’t let Cruz die. He couldn’t die, not tonight, not here in front of her. Not ever. I love him.

Cruz clenched his fists. “Let her go. She had nothing to do with any of this until you assholes dragged her in.”

“Too bad. Too late now,” the man said. “There’ll just be one less blond bitch down here in the sticks.” He moved his hand, and a click echoed from his weapon. “Any last words for your little lady?”

“If she dies…” Cruz spoke with eerie calm. Rosie wished to god she could see his face clearly. But he was shadowed and too far from her. “I’ll fucking kill you both and I’ll take days to do it. You’ll be begging for me to end you.” 

Esau shook his head. “You fucking cocksu—”

A deep familiar voice cut through the night, bellowing a word she didn’t understand.

Rosie gasped. But before she could form a thought, a low dark shape hurtled into the clearing with blinding speed. It jumped on Esau with a growl.

A gagging sound came from the man next to Rosie. A thud and the rustle of brush. Air whooshed past her, around her, as the clicking of metal on metal reached her ear. Shane rattled off Miranda rights.

In front of her, Esau howled in pain from somewhere on the ground. More growling came from the low shape still connected to him. Denver.

“Rosie!” Cruz was right in front of her, cupping her uninjured cheek. “God damn it.”

Behind her, steady fingers worked swiftly to undo her gag, then moved to her hands. “Mother fuckers.” Shane cursed a streak as he took apart the knots. Then he was speaking to someone. “Move in. One subject in handcuffs. Bring the ambulance.” In his next breath he was up and running toward Esau.

“Rosie.” Cruz folded her into his arms. “Rosie. Christ. What did they do to you?”

“Just-just…h-hit…” Ow. Her jaw ached. “Cruz.” She clung to his broad shoulders as tears fell. “P-please don’t let go.”

He sat and shifted her onto his lap, sideways, her good cheek against his chest. “Never. Never letting go of you.”

She sagged into him, grateful for his strength as relief washed over her. He’s okay. She curled her fingers into his shirt. “C-cruz, I thought they were going to kill you. Whatever they said, I-I didn’t want you to do it—”

“Shh, baby, don’t try to talk.” He kissed her hair. “No one’s gonna kill me. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

Several feet away, Esau moaned. Shane said something in German. Denver moved, then Shane was cuffing Esau, reciting Miranda rights.

The crash of many feet and male voices cut through Esau’s grunts of pain. Rosie jerked her head up to see dozens of flashlights coming closer. “What’s going on?”

“That’s the rest of the county sheriff department. They were on standby a mile away. Ambulance too. Can you walk—oh shit.” He glanced at her feet. “Damn it, I’ll—”

“No. Don’t let go. Please. Let them do it.” Her teeth chattered though the night was warm. Now that she was finally in Cruz’s arms, she didn’t want any space between them. Not even for him to undo the rope around her ankles.

The cops reached their group. Shane gave gruff commands. Someone set up a floodlight. Two EMTs rushed toward Rosie.

“Evening miss. I’m Andrew and this is Brandon,” one said. With close-cut hair and a baby face, he looked like he was right out of college. He knelt in front of her and set a bag on the ground. “Can you tell us your name?”

“Rosie Marlow.”

Brandon nodded. “All right Rosie, I’d like to check your pulse.”

She nodded and extended her arm.

“I’m gonna go ahead and cut that rope off your legs.” Andrew took a pair of scissors from his bag. Swiftly, he dispatched the bindings from her ankles.

Brandon cautiously examined her wrists. “Some abrasions here. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

Only then did she peek at her arms. The rope had dug in, creating purple bruises and a web of tiny scratches. She winced. If this was what her arms looked like…how bad was her face?

“Sorry about that,” Brandon murmured.

“No, it didn’t hurt that much. It’s just…how bad is the rest?”

Andrew offered a kind smile. “Mind if I take a look at your cheek? Looks like a nasty bruise.”

Rosie nodded. “He hit me. I can talk okay…” She straightened up, but didn’t leave Cruz’s lap.

Andrew gently tilted her face. “Do you have more injuries?”

“I don’t think so but, um…” She tried to think back. What happened after they had her in their car?

An angry growl rumbled in Cruz’s chest. “Did they touch you?”

“They…they had a rag with something on it. They held it over my mouth.” God, that seemed like ages ago, yet it had been this same night. “They put me in their car and when I woke up, we were here.”

“Goddam sons of bitches,” Cruz muttered.

Brandon looked up from where he was checking her pulse. “If you inhaled a substance that caused you to lose consciousness, we should get you to the hospital just to check out your lungs. And run some tests, make sure whatever it was is out of your system.”

“Okay.” She didn’t like hospitals. But their words made sense. She held on to Cruz’s shoulder. “I want him to come with me.”

“Of course,” Andrew said. He pressed gently on her cheekbone. “Any tenderness here?”

“No,” she murmured. “It’s mostly my jaw.”

“It may just be a bad bruise, but the doctor can tell you for sure.”

Heavy foot falls came close and Shane lowered his frame to her line of sight. “Did you say doctor?”

Andrew and Brandon both straightened. Andrew cleared his throat. “Officer Marlow—I mean, Sergeant Marlow, sir.”

“Your sister was made to inhale a substance that made her lose consciousness. She agreed to come to the hospital to get checked out,” Brandon said.

Shane took her hand. “Jesus Christ, Rosie. You gonna be okay?”

“I just feel like I got punched really hard. The stuff they gave me…I don’t know.”

“We’ll search their car, any of their belongings, once we get a warrant,” Shane said. “We’ll find out what that shit was and call it in. You going to Central Redemption?”

Rosie caught Brandon’s eye. “Can we go there?”

“Anywhere you want, Miss Marlow.”

Denver trotted over, and both EMTs gave him a wide berth. “Hi, Denver.” She reached up to scratch his silky chin. “You were a good boy today.”

The big dog chuffed out a breath and shook his head side to side, making his silver chain collar rattle.

“On that note, I’m gonna need one of you guys to look at that piece of shit’s arm,” Shane muttered and hooked a thumb in Esau’s direction. “Denver took a chunk out of it. He didn’t like what they were doing to his aunt.”

“On it, sir. “Andrew hustled over to Esau, who was still on the ground, surrounded by officers.

“I have to stay here for a bit, but I’ll come over there as soon as I can,” Shane said. “Call me if anything happens. I gotta handle this. I’ll see you both soon.”

Cruz stroked her back. “You ready to get up?”

“Yeah.” It was silly but part of her wished he could just carry her. He shifted her toward Brandon and between them she stood up. She took a deep breath, relieved that her legs and feet felt absolutely fine. “I’m good. I can walk.”

Brandon handed Cruz a flashlight, then flicked on his own and led them through the trees.

Cruz slid his arm around her waist. “Not letting you go.” He kissed her temple.

Rosie leaned on Cruz and just breathed. Her mind was a tangle of emotion. She still didn’t understand all the details of why these guys had shown up in Sundown. But Cruz had come for her. Saved her again. He’d risked his life for her. She loved him, and that was all that mattered.

Chapter 30

The clock on the wall of their little recovery room read three am. Central Redemption Hospital’s emergency section had actual rooms for its patients, not just partitions between them like some of the hospitals Cruz had been in.

Thank god for the room, but he was ready to jump out of his skin. Every mottled and marred inch of Rosie’s face made him want to kill Esau, slowly and repeatedly.

Guilt had been ripping long, agonizing slashes in his soul ever since that Facetime conversation. His beautiful country girl had been attacked, kidnapped, beaten and bound—because of him. He was lower than low, an ex-inmate with powerful enemies. She deserved a nice guy whose past wouldn’t come calling like a nightmare.

Not him. As much as he loved her, he couldn’t ask her to live her life in danger.

Still in her work clothes, Rosie lay on a bed, propped up on a mountain of pillows and with a blanket over her because the hospital air conditioning was on at full blast. They were finally alone after a dozen staff members had come by to do test after test. One of the county officers had come by to get a statement from each of them.

Now, they were waiting on lab results. Rosie removed the ice pack she’d had on her cheek. “Ugh, this is too cold, and this room is already freezing.”

Cruz set it on the counter of the sink in the corner. “You probably don’t need it anymore.” He settled back on the chair next to her bed. “Is that Tylenol helping?”

“Yeah.”

He took her hand between his. “Rosie… I’m sorry.”

Gorgeous blue eyes blinked in confusion. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything.”

“Yes, I do. This entire night was my fault.” He held up a hand when she started to protest. “Someone came after me. They couldn’t find me so they did the next best thing and grabbed you. To get to me.” His voice dropped to a growl. “You got hurt because of me.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t anticipate some lunatic coming after you.”

“And that’s my point.” He ran a hand over his hair. “Some of the men I knew, they might still be in jail but they can still order hits. They have that much power.”

Her mouth twisted downward. “I’m still confused about what those two guys were saying in the woods. Someone ratted someone out?”

“That, I’m not sure on.” He blew out a breath. “Johnny Crazy Legs was the one whose testimony did me in.”

“I remember you said that. He lied and said you shot that guy.”

“And three months ago he recanted—but I never heard why. I didn’t question it.”

Her fingertips rubbed along his. “Of course not. It was the truth. Finally.”

He forced himself to study the myriad of red and purple on her cheek. Hatred that his past led to this oozed through his body like lava. There was no avoiding its destructive path. “Rosie…I don’t know when someone else will get pissed and try something like this again.”

“Cruz…”

“You could have died. I can’t live with that.”

“You could have died too!” She sat up higher on the pillows. “He was holding a gun to your head. I was terrified that I might lose you. Cruz.” She squeezed his fingers. “I love you.”

Her words punched a hole in his gut. “You shouldn’t. I don’t deserve it. My past is part of me that I can’t escape. That ugly criminal part. It’ll always be there.” Her eyes narrowed and he knew an argument was coming. “No. I can’t ask you to potentially put yourself in danger because of me.”

“You’re not asking.” Her voice took on a defiant edge. “I’m telling you, I’m not going anywhere.”

Don’t argue with a country girl. Shit, she was making this harder and harder. “What if I can’t get to you in time next time? I can’t stand to see you hurt again.”

She reached to cup his jaw. “What if the sky falls and the world ends tomorrow? You can’t live your life hiding from the what ifs.”

“I’d rather live it knowing you’re safe.”

“Cruz.” Blue eyes pierced him with so much love he couldn’t breathe. “Before I met you, I almost died.” She let the words linger in the air. “Anything can happen to anyone on any given day. It hasn’t been easy to move forward, but I did. Mostly. And what I couldn’t move past, you accepted. Don’t you see? You accepted all of me. The parts I hid and couldn’t share with anyone else. I love you and I need you. And if you’re trying to get rid of me, it won’t work.”

“We’re talking about your life. I can’t let you risk it.”

“My life?” She shook her head. “My life is connected to yours. I love you. And if I die tomorrow, I’ll die happy knowing I had these months with you. That I had months with someone who held me and accepted me, who let me cry and told me it was going to be okay.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Someone who didn’t think I messed up too bad to have a fresh start.”

“Of course you didn’t.” He grabbed a tissue and handed it to her. It killed him that she was so hard on herself, that she let one mistake become a ruling factor in her mind. And it humbled him more than anything ever had that she trusted him with her deepest scars.

She dabbed at her eyes. “And you moved here for a fresh start. Damn it. Cruz, you deserve it. Don’t you dare tell me you don’t.”

He stared into the endless blue of her eyes, at the mix of love, anger, and fear there. And he knew she was right. Their lives were connected. Even if he left, she might still be a target if anyone came after him again. And he’d rather be here, to protect her, than in some other town.

And god knew, she was it for him. No other woman. Ever.

He smoothed a strand of hair away from her cheek. “All right, you stubborn country girl. I won’t argue with you.”

“You were arguing with me.” She raised a brow.

“My mistake.” He brushed a gentle kiss across her lips. “I love you so damn much, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I know you don’t,” she whispered. “And I don’t want you to go anywhere. Never let me go. You promised.”

“You got it, pretty girl.” He kissed her more deeply, teasing her lips with his tongue—

A sharp knock sounded on their door and the on-call doctor opened it. “Oh, I’m sorry!” She paused.

Cruz pulled back from Rosie and turned to the doctor. “It’s okay.”

“Come in,” Rosie said. “Dr. Farran, right?”

“Yes. Good memory.” She stepped in, carrying a laptop, and closed the door. “I just wanted to give you an update.”

“Go ahead.”

“The deputies called in, reporting they found a chemical called chloroform in the vehicle belonging to the, uh…men.” She said the last word with distaste, as if she’d rather call them something else but knew it wouldn’t be professional.

Rosie frowned. “Is that…bad?”

“Well, it can cause unconsciousness if inhaled, as you know. But the good news is that since you seemed to have gotten a relatively small, one time dose, I don’t anticipate any side effects. It won’t linger in your body.”

Rosie let out a sigh. “Whew.”

“So, everything checked out okay.” Dr. Farran walked to the sink and carefully balanced the laptop on the counter. She clicked though a few screens. “All your vitals are healthy. Other than the inhaled substance, your injuries consist of bruises and lacerations. You’ll be able to go home soon.”

Rosie squeezed Cruz’s hand. “Best news I heard all day.”

The doctor smiled. “I can imagine.” She closed the computer. “Keep taking Tylenol for any pain you might have. And call us if anything feels worse. I’ll get you some paperwork and then you can get out of here.”

“What about work?” Rosie asked.

Dr. Farran pressed her lips into a line. “Remind me of what you do?”

“I’m a bartender and waitress at the Sundown Bar and Grille.”

“Hmm. You may want to take a few days to rest, though you have full motion in your legs and you didn’t have trouble moving your wrists. It’s up to you. If you need the distraction, fine.”

Hell no. His woman needed to heal. “I agree with the doc.” Cruz stroked her hair. “Take it easy.”

“You can think about it. Be right back.” The doctor stepped out and close the door.

“I’m gonna get you home and spoil you. No work for the rest of the week. I’ll make you breakfast and wash your hair.” He’d pamper her as much as she’d let him.

“I’m actually too tired to argue,” she said softly.

“Whoa. Are we sure all that crap is out of your system?”

“Ha ha.” She rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. “You know I don’t like to sit around. But right now I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

“That can be arranged. I’m sure Owen doesn’t expect you to be in for that long, at least.”

Her blue gaze locked on him, so full of love he couldn’t believe it. And the deep red marring her face would anger him forever. “I would say that I don’t want people to see my face—but I bet the news is already all over the town.” She sighed. “I’m so ready to go home. Wait. We don’t have a car here.”

“I’ll text Shane. Bet he or another deputy can give us a ride.” He pulled out his phone and typed a quick message. Shane hadn’t been able to get away from the scene in the woods, but Cruz had sent him regular updates.

In seconds, his phone chimed with a reply from Shane: Be there in ten. The Sheriff’s taking over.

Cruz straightened in his chair. “Ten minutes, pretty girl. Shane’s on his way.”

“You can’t call me pretty girl right now. I went to the bathroom. I saw what I look like,” she said softly. “Thank god it wasn’t worse, but—“

“Wrong. I will call you pretty until my voice gives out, and then I’ll start texting it to the world.” He stroked a finger down her arm. “That’s what you said when you disagreed with me.”

She let out a soft breath. “True.” She grabbed hold of his fingers. “I’ll let you win this one.”

“Baby, you’re here with me. I already won.” He leaned in to place a kiss on her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She gave him a smile so happy he felt something fall into place in his soul. She accepted him with her feisty sweetness that he could never live without. “Let’s go home.”

Home. Home with his unexpected, beautiful country girl—that was all he needed in life.

Epilogue

Three months later

The bright October sun blazed a beam of golden light into Rosie’s bedroom window, landing on Cruz’s sexy naked chest like it, too, wanted to kiss him awake. She sat up in bed, ready to do exactly that…but took a second just to stare.

She would never get enough of his hard body, the cuts and ridges made by muscles strong enough to carry her. She would never get over his tousled hair, sticking up at funny angles but always begging her to run her fingers through it. And those lips, so wicked even now as he slept.

He was hers.

And she couldn’t imagine life being better. A month after her abduction, Shane had gotten the details behind that awful night. Johnny Crazy Legs had been facing multiple arrests and a lengthy sentence, and made a plea deal with the state’s attorneys. He’d given up information on Big J, Los Reyes, and the Cobras. He’d also admitted lying in Cruz’s trial.

He’d been the snitch Los Reyes was looking for.

And then he’d been found dead in a small town in Ohio, living under a different name. His car had smashed through a guard rail on a lonely stretch of highway, plummeting into a ravine. No one could officially tie it back to Big J. A theory had even surfaced that it may have been a suicide. Had guilt gotten to him?

They may never know the whole story, but Cruz was convinced Big J had gotten his revenge.

Rosie shook off the thoughts, glad for the closure but for now, wanting nothing more than to love her man. She dipped her head to kiss down his sternum, where the sun had chosen to light his skin.

One brawny arm shifted to her back, sliding down to palm her ass. “My girl’s up early.”

“Mmm, not that early. Ten.” On weekends, they could spend more time in bed, cuddling, lazing, talking, kissing. “And I’m hungry.” On cue, her stomach let out a growl.

He chuckled. “Better get some food into you. Want eggs?”

“Already made a batch of French toast. It’s downstairs.”

“You’re my dream woman. You know that, right?”

She grinned. “You may have mentioned it.”

“Then let’s eat.” He got out of bed and she greedily watched him pull on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

Watching him get dressed or undressed—both were hot. She’d never not be turned on by the way his muscles rippled as he moved. But she cleared her head enough to grab his hand and lead him downstairs.

The platter full of French toast didn’t last long, and soon Cruz was pushing a piece of it around on his plate, mopping up the last of the syrup. “This is the best. Ever.” He popped the last bite into his mouth.

Rosie, already done with her toast, finished off her coffee. “Glad you like it.”

Cruz sat back in his chair. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What?” Her heart did a flip. Not much surprised her. “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise.” He arched a brow.

“When do I get it?”

“That’s a loaded question, baby.” Slate blue eyes flared with heat.

“Ha ha.” She crossed to his side of the kitchen table and leaned down to nuzzle his neck. “Do I need to kiss it out of you?”

“You start that and we’ll never get there.” He pulled her onto his lap.

“The surprise is a place?”

“Yup.”

“Can we go now? Am I dressed okay?”

“Yes, and yes.”

She couldn’t hide the grin that tugged at her lips. “Let’s wash up these dishes and go.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were in Cruz’s truck and pulling out of her driveway.

“This time, I get to take you on a surprise country drive.” He draped an arm over the back of her seat.

“Hmm.” She tapped a finger on her chin. “What are you up to?”

He only grinned and fiddled with the radio. “Hey, this is a good one.” He turned up Brad Paisley’s, “Today.”

“Aww, this is sweet.” She angled herself toward him on the seat. “You and me, a drive in Sundown, and Brad Paisley on the radio. This is country life, right here. I’d say you’ve become a local.”

“I’d agree with you.” He glanced at her with a curious mix of love and excitement and she wondered again what he could possibly be planning. They drove down a few rural routes, and when they got close to Van’s bluff he took a road that branched off the main one.

The road took them part way up a gentle hill, along a line of oaks and sycamores, to a wide flat area. Trees and the road continued up behind it, while the western part of Sundown lay visible in front of them. Cruz parked the truck and jogged around to open her door. Rosie stepped out onto soft grass, uncut and crunching under her sneakers. “I haven’t been up here in ages.” She took a few steps away from the truck. “You can almost see Van’s from here.”

“Shoulda known you’ve been here before.” Cruz stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“There’s nowhere in Sundown I haven’t been.” She studied the maple trees that grew higher up on the ridge, the first ones to turn a blazing orange, then swiveled back to him. “But I’ve never been here with you.”

“Nope.” He stepped closer.

“So…what’s the surprise?”

“You like this little patch of land?”

“Of course. It’s beautiful.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Those trees are the perfect backdrop. Whenever I drive by here, I feel like there should be a house up here.”

He flicked his gaze to the woods behind them, then back to her. “I can see that.”

She studied him, insanely curious. Why was he talking about whether or not she liked it here? “You’re killing me. What’s the surprise?”

“Impatient, aren’t you?” He gave her a swift kiss. “I’m thinking about buying this land.” His eyes held a sliver of hesitation. “If you like it.”

Her jaw dropped. “Buying it. This?” She swung her arm in a wide arc. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“How much of it? There’s a lot here.”

“Thought an acre would be good.”

“Oh my gosh. Cruz! That’s…that’d be great. Wow.” She hadn’t thought he was going anywhere, but buying up land was a big deal. If he wanted to stay, they had her house— “Wait, what are you going to do with it?”

He draped an arm over her shoulders and turned her toward the semi-flat area. “Thought I’d put a house right there.”

“Oh.” She stared at the swath of prairie grass as if it held answers. A house. A new one. Not her little one…Um… “That’d be nice.”

“I know what you’re thinking. I love your grandparents’ house. I’m just thinking long term.”

She squinted up at him. “You think you won’t like it in the long term?”

“No. I’ll always have a soft spot for that house because it’s yours and we’ve made some memories there I’ll never forget. But.” He took her hand. “Long term, I want to outgrow that house with you.”

She gazed up into those blue eyes, trying to read what he was saying. But her thought process derailed when he dropped to one knee before her.

“Rosie Marlow, you’re the sweetest, kindest, sexiest woman I’ve ever met. You’re stronger than you realize. I love you, all of you, every curve and every memory. You may think there’s things in this life that you don’t deserve, or that you’re destined to miss out on. But until the day I die, I plan on telling you you’re wrong. And that’s an argument I will have with you.”

Rosie’s breath caught and her vision blurred as tears swamped her. She wiped at them furiously, wanting nothing to obscure every nuance of how Cruz looked in this moment.

His other hand dipped into his jeans pocket and pulled out a tiny blue box. “I plan to tell you every day and every night how much I love you. I want to give you the world. Let’s fill up a house right here on this hill with all the kids we can adopt. Rosie…” He flipped the box open, revealing a sparkling diamond solitaire that reflected the autumn sunlight in a dazzling display. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Cruz…oh my god.” Her gaze drifted to his eyes, so full of devotion and sincerity, and she didn’t think her heart could hold any more love for this man. But it did. This felt like a dream, but his hand on hers was very real.

He was the real deal. He was the one.

“Yes!” Her arm trembled and fresh tears cascaded down her cheeks. This sexy, dangerous man, her dark knight, managed to see all of her and want her forever.

He stood and pulled her close, covering her mouth with his. His kiss was tender and possessive, and he pulled away too soon. “Hold out your hand, pretty girl.”

She did, still fighting the water works. He slid the cool platinum band onto her finger, a perfect fit. He grinned. “Couldn’t wait to put a ring on you and let the world know you’re mine.”

She smiled through her tears. “I think I’ve been yours since you first walked into the Grille.”

He pulled a wad of Kleenex from his pocket next and handed it to her. “Thought you’d need this.”

“You know me so well.” Taking it, she dried her eyes and blew her nose, the familiar movements now different with the new weight on her hand. She peered closer at the enormous diamond. “This is beautiful. I love it.” She leaned up on her tip toes to kiss him.

“Glad you do.” He wrapped her in an embrace. “And this place?”

“Yes, everything. I love you.” She breathed deeply of his clean masculine scent. “So…we’re gonna build a house?”

“I’d like to. Much as I like where you are now.” He patted her bottom. “We can work with the architect during the winter and break ground in the spring. Start thinking big, baby. We’ll make it your dream home.”

“Hmm…dream house, huh? There’s a few things I’d love.”

“Like what?”

“A wrap-around porch. With a swing or two. And hanging baskets of flowers in spring and summer.” She grinned. “A huge kitchen with an island, two sinks….oh, and several bedrooms.”

“Yeah, maybe ten ought to do it.”

“Ten?” She pulled back. “What are we going to do with all those rooms?”

“Fill ‘em up with kids.” He grinned. “I’m serious. Let’s adopt a dozen.”

Rosie started coughing.

“Or ten.” He studied her, amused. “There’s loads of kids who need permanent homes. And you’ll be an amazing mom.”

God, he melted her heart. And with him at her side, she could do it. She could find the courage to not be afraid she’d fail. “Okay. We’ll include you and we’ll have the Sundown Zaffino baseball team under our roof.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“We should get a dog too. To play with them.”

“And round them all up for dinnertime.”

She playfully smacked his chest. “They’re kids, not sheep!”

“I know, baby. I just can’t wait”

She hooked a finger into his belt loop as a new happy reality settled over her. “Cruz…this land, a house, an architect…this ring…it’s all…just, wow. So much to take in.”

“I agree…but there’s one more detail that sweetens the whole deal.”

“There’s more?” She stared up at him, incredulous.

“The way that all of this is possible right now.” He gave a rueful shake of his head. “Turns out…when a county wrongfully convicts someone, and it’s proven that they did so, and it’s all over the news, they’re embarrassed. The mayor, the cops, the top prosecutors and everyone in between. And they want it to go away as quickly and quietly as possible. So…they gave me a settlement.”

“Oh my gosh…” Her jaw dropped again. “Well, thank god. You deserve it. Though nothing can make up for ten lost years.”

“If I hadn’t had ten lost years, I wouldn’t have needed a fresh start. And I wouldn’t have thrown a dart at a map. And I never would have come here. And I never would have met you, and my life would always be missing something. So in a way, it’s all meant to be.”

She threaded her hands into his hair. Only her amazing man could find the silver lining in the most hellacious experience of his life. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” He pressed a swift kiss to her lips. “So, no limits. I even figured I’d go to college, get a degree. You can finish the courses you started too, if you want.”

“We could study together,” she murmured. “What would you pick?”

He shrugged. “Some kind of business degree. I love working outside, but it’s seasonal. And a guy can’t do that forever. Hell, maybe I’ll buy the company from Palmer one day. I want to support you and all those kids, so y’all can do whatever you want in life. Take the whole bunch to Disney World or something.”

“You said y’all.” She grinned.

“Yeah, well, a little country girl’s accent is rubbing off on me. And I’m buying land. Putting down roots. I’m a local now.”

“You sure are.” She rested her hand on one big shoulder, where her diamond flashed in the sun. “I like the sound of that.”

“My heart is here with you, Rosie.” He framed her face in his hands and brushed his lips across hers. “Forever.”

THE END

I sincerely hope you enjoyed Record of Wrongs! Please take a moment to leave a review at the digital retailer of your choice. Reviews can be brief, and they mean the world to indie authors.

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Record of Wrongs Playlist

Locked Away – R. City ft. Adam Levine

Still Breathing – Green Day

Hometown Girl – Josh Turner

Seein’ Red – Dustin Lynch

Spirits – the Strumbellas

Somewhere on a Beach – Dierks Bentley

Dark Side – Kelly Clarkson

Think a Little Less – Michael Ray

All of Me – John Legend

Hey Pretty Girl – Kip Moore

Today – Brad Paisley

Coming Soon

Book 2 in the Redemption County series

Becca Gable is learning how to stay on her feet after a series of crushing losses. Always the good girl, the events of the past year push her to make a mistake she can’t take back. Now, her corporate finance job and her fiancée are gone thanks to her newly-acquired criminal record.

Shane Marlow survived an IED blast during his service in Iraq—but half his team did not. Physically healed, he returns to his home county as a K9 officer. The scars of loss run deep and though local folks admire him, no one truly gets him—until Becca lands literally on her knees in front of him.

Their bond of shared tragedy morphs into a connection neither can deny. But a stalker decides that Becca’s crime should stay front and center. As the unsettling episodes reveal that no part of her life is secret, Shane is all that stands between her and the enemy.

About Sharon

Sharon Kay writes award-winning fiction and can never get enough reading time. She loves winter and black coffee, and is endlessly inspired to write kick-ass heroines and the men strong enough to capture their hearts. Sharon lives in the Chicago area with her husband and son, and one weekend the idea for her first book series formed in her head, refusing to stay quiet. Her characters tend to keep her up at night, as they banter, fall in love, and fight to make the world a safer place.

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